


Harry Potter in Arcadia

by Dunuelos



Series: Harry Potter, Lone Traveler [26]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Joan of Arcadia
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 19:04:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20263030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dunuelos/pseuds/Dunuelos
Summary: The Traveler visits Joan of Arcadia.





	1. God and his Family

**Author's Note:**

> "The Lone Traveler: Young man who tried to change the past and save those he loved… plan failed and became the Lone Traveler, wandering through time and reality, making a difference wherever he went… very powerful… defeated a powerful Dark Lord… swept along the path he walked by a spectacular aura of blue light."
> 
> 'Legends & Myths of the Wizarding World' by Gertrude Yolanda
> 
> FF St ID 2673584 – Chap 9 – The Professional

(HEREIN LIES THE ORIGINAL FROM THE TV SHOW)

Joan listened to Ryan with a sense of deep foreboding – and some confusion.

Here was a man who, like herself, knew personally that God existed, knew that there was a divine hand behind creation, and yet – the man filled her with a sense of dread like nothing else she had ever experienced. She tried to bring her mind back to the now.

"**…know what his philosophy was**?" She looked up. Ryan was looking away as he continued. "**Life must be some kind of terrible mistake.**" He half turned toward her. "**But the beautiful thing, Joan?**" She looked up into his eyes as he said with some intensity, "**It's _not_ my mistake.**"

She began getting angry. She didn't know why. She felt her hackles rise as this man tried to be charming.

"**Don't look at me like that,**" Ryan said with a smirk, sounding mildly aggrieved. "**I'm a good guy! I saved Adam's life.**" His smirk got bigger as Joan looked at him with something very akin to loathing. He turned and walked out. The wind picked up even as he walked out.

Joan shook her head as she attempted to put it out of her mind.

(HERE BEGINS THE NEW)

She started to move back towards the desk. She had a finals coming up and she needed to study.

She suddenly heard the door chimes again and she turned to see who was coming in. It was a man who appeared to be around the same age as Ryan Hunter. He, however, was dressed much more casually. He wore jeans, t-shirt, and – surprising in late spring – a worn leather jacket.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

He looked over to her and smiled. "I hope so. Do you have anything on recent history?" Joan decided that his accent was beautiful. Although he looked a bit more scruffy than the man who had just been there, he gave off a far different feeling.

"Sure. This way." She pointed to a set of shelves. "What exactly are you looking for?"

The man hesitated for a moment. "Er. I'm visiting – not here that long of course – but wanted to get an idea of the culture and recent events. Maybe even an historical timeline."

Joan cocked her head with some confusion. "So history or culture?"

The man thought about it for a moment. "A bit of both?"

Joan said, "Well, that aisle is recent non-fiction. And that section has both American and World History." She paused and then smiled. "If you're willing to explain things when I need them, I'd even let you use my History text from school."

The man looked at her with some interest. "Actually, that would suit what I need."

Something about the man was calming in almost exactly the opposite way that Ryan Hunter was annoying. And, unlike when God showed up, his appearance didn't engender any sense of anxiety.

Don't get her wrong, she appreciated and respected God; she just wished that she had a slightly less personal relationship sometimes.

He followed her up to the counter as she moved to sit behind it. "So, where's the book?"

She reached into her backpack and pulled out her text. "Here it is. I don't really know exactly what the test will be on, but … maybe you can quiz me?"

The man nodded. "By the way, my name is Harry. What's yours?"

"I'm Joan."

The man grinned. "So instead of Joan of Arc, it's Joan of Arcadia?"

Joan paused. "Sure. Let's go with that."

The man sat down and opened the book. "What chapters? You have to give me a few minutes to review."

"The whole second half. It's the final examination for the term. You look it over while I work on my physics class."

The man shrugged. "Okay."

Joan started reviewing her physics book, only occasionally looking over and seeing Harry quickly looking through the book. Sometimes, he'd have an interested look and sometimes he looked surprised.

Finally, she heard him clear his throat. "Okay. Done." Joan looked over and saw Harry looking at her with some amusement. "So, how do you want to do this?"

Joan replied, "Just a second." She made final note from the physics chapter she was reviewing and then closed the book and her notebook. She then looked up. "Just ask random questions from the book."

He nodded. The questions came hard and fast. Joan flubbed a few and Harry would work through those areas in more detail until she was more confident and then would move on. He seemed particularly amused when reviewing the Spanish Inquisition and the Salem Witch Trials.

Finally she had to ask, "Why are you smiling? Those are true tragedies we're talking about!" She was a bit annoyed.

He looked apologetic. "Sorry. I was just thinking how silly they were. I mean … " he paused and then continued. "Well, think about it. If these people were really witches, do you think they'd let themselves get killed that way?"

Joan was slightly mollified. She acknowledged the point and then told him to carry on.

There were disturbed by the door. Joan looked to see who came in and was surprised. God (the old lady version) was coming in the door but she wasn't alone. There was a small, exotic looking girl with her.

They approached the counter. Before she could say anything, she heard Harry gasp. "Flute?"

The exotic little girl didn't look surprised at all as she crowed, "Harry!" and then proceeded to jump on the man and kiss his face repeatedly.

Joan watched in fascination as Harry began laughing. "It's good to see you again." He looked at the girl who was sitting in his lap looking smug and up to the woman with her. "Who's this?"

The little girl looked at Harry and then at Joan. With her biggest smirk she replied, "This is my great-grandma."

Harry looked at her with some intensity. "Truly?" She saw that Harry looked as surprised as she felt.

The old woman smiled as she said, "Yes. She's visiting from her home country." She looked at Joan and said, "When I was younger I traveled quite a bit. You know, putting roots in different places. One of my children returned to one of the places I visited and decided to have children of his own. They're a bit more active than I am – but I was never one to tell anyone what they should do."

Joan looked confused. God had kids? Harry looked at Flute, who was still in his lap, and then at the old woman. "Why do I feel like I'm missing something?" He glanced at Joan and then back at Flute. "How are Sparhawk and your mum?"

Flute said happily, "Well, we had an adventure in another country. Politics, you know. But everything was taken care of. One of my _cousins_ was causing problems, but Daddy took care of it."

The old woman sighed. "It's always sad to see one of my descendants go so far off-track. With my family … well, they tend to create more problems than most."

Joan, who was having a small crisis of faith and confusion finally interjected, "I didn't know you had kids. Have I heard of them?"

The old woman smiled as she looked off. "Maybe. One branch of the family live on a mountain in Greece and watched over the area he lived in. My grandson liked playing with electricity. They moved to Italy and changed their names at one point for the sake of politics. Another branch lived in Scandinavia." She paused and frowned for a moment. "Come to think of it, most of my children liked playing with electricity." She looked back at Joan. "You've heard of some of them."

She considered this even as she noticed Harry stiffen. He held the little girl as he stood. "Can I assume that little Aphrael here is truly your great-granddaughter and not by adoption?"

The old woman smiled. "Oh, yes."

Joan looked at the girl, who still had that small smirk.

Harry said, "And did you have something to do with my recent Travels?" Joan wondered if she was imagining the capital letter at the beginning of Travels.

The old woman sighed. "No. That would be another one of my many grandchildren. As I said, I don't interfere much beyond a few suggestions and advise here and there. I'm a great believer in free will." She smiled then. "However, from everything that I have heard and seen, you've been doing a wonderful job."

Harry paused. "Does she," he nodded his heard toward Joan, "know who you are?"

The old woman just smiled knowingly. Joan was a little freaked out.

Harry considered that for a moment. "Can you tell me how long I'll be Traveling?"

The old woman smiled. "I think as long as you have things to learn and people you can help, I wouldn't make any permanent residency plans. But I will say that you will be allowed to settle down happily."

Harry looked suddenly like a weight he had been carrying was lifted from his shoulders. Joan was really curious.

"And I'm here because …"

The old woman sighed again. "Unfortunately, another one of my grandchildren has sent one of your brothers on a similar trip to yours. Only he hasn't done quite the same job as you. Unfortunately, you'll have to clean up some of his messes. One of them is here in Arcadia. You might be a while."

The little girl piped up, "When I heard you'd be here I volunteered to bring you something you left behind. It will help keep you out of trouble." She reached into the pocket of her dress. "You didn't bring your wallet or ID. And around here, you'll probably need it." Her smirk became bigger. "And some of my cousins and I convinced the one who sent you on the trip to provide. It's in the wallet."

Harry took the wallet and stuffed it in his pocket. He sighed. "Any directions from my travel agent?"

The old woman smiled at him. "I think you'll figure it out." She looked at the little girl. "Come, Aphrael. I still have a few places to show you while you're here."

Flute said, "Okay!" Harry let her down but before he could stand, she proceeded to give him several kisses again until he was laughing.

She turned and said to Joan, "It's nice to meet you, Joan. Grandma has told me some wonderful things about you." She paused. "Can I get a hug?"

The old woman rolled her eyes even as Joan smiled and said, "Sure."

The little girl crowed and ran around the desk as Joan dropped down. Joan was surprised at how enthusiastically she was hugged. The girl didn't kiss her as much as she did Harry, but Joan definitely received a few.

Aphrael ran around and grabbed the hand of the old woman and yelled, "I want to see the playground."

Both waved back even as they exited.

Harry turned to Joan and said, "I take it we'll probably need to have a talk."

Joan nodded. "I think so."


	2. Girardi Family Dinner

Joan put her mind off of the man who had sat with her on her shift. His story was engrossing and interesting and everything else, but she had her own worries. She had agreed to provide direction and information.

But she still had exams and her life and her assignments from the Almighty. And Ryan Hunter was her biggest assignment ever.

Harry had volunteered his help, but she knew it would be weird if she was regularly seen with a strange man who had suddenly appeared. So, she directed him to Lily to pitch in on cleaning up at the Church. That would occupy him long enough for her to get through exams.

She put it out of her mind and made her way home. She REALLY needed to buckle down for her AP Physics final.

* * *

Harry found the Church that Joan described. It was sitting there, large and hurt. To his eye, the spiritual pain of the building was almost palpable. He made his way inside.

He noted that there were several people working on cleaning several surfaces which showed the evidence of vandalism. Pieces of damaged art were being reverently packed in boxes, maybe to be repaired or buried – he didn't know if Catholics had rituals for such things or not.

Some were working on removing the graffiti that had been sprayed on the wall. Most of the marks were random lines, although some were obviously attempts to paint obscene images using spray paint: Rough pictures of male and female body parts.

He made his way up to the alter area, where most of the damage was centered. There was one man who was obviously in charge. The sadness that rolled off the man was almost palpable, but he was surprised to feel no anger, no hatred.

Harry wasn't familiar with many clerics or priests, but those he often ran into were just as fallible, just as human as any others he ran into. To find a man who truly seemed to follow the Christian precept to throw away hatred was … surprising.

He walked up to the man. The man greeted him with a calm and welcoming smile. "Can I help you?"

Harry replied, "I was told that there was a 'Lilly' who was helping to coordinate the repair efforts?"

The man looked intrigued. "She's a volunteer who helps out from time to time with various parisioners and services." He held out his hand. "I'm Ken Mallory. This is my parish."

Harry shook his hand. "Harry Planter." Harry Potter was a popular fiction character in this universe and the card Flute had provided in the wallet gave Planter as his name. "I happened to be traveling through the area and another friend who happened to be visiting introduced me, through a relative of hers, to a girl named Joan. In our conversation, the recent incident at your church came up. I have some time and she told me that I should talk to her Mum's friend Lilly about helping out."

The man's smile grew deeper. "Any help is, of course, appreciated. Did you come to help tonight?"

Harry shook his head. "First I need to find a room locally. I didn't intend on staying past the day."

Father Mallory looked surprised. "So, just to help out, you're going to stay in town?"

Harry shrugged and gave a small grin. "I tend to help out wherever I can. I tend to run into people who need a hand from time to time and I like to do my part."

The good father seemed somewhat impressed. "It sounds like you're a good man. We could always use the help of a good man." The man appeared to think for a moment. "You say Joan Girardi sent you over?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, her Mother is actually one of the people Lilly is helping. I think she might be a good choice for some who could help direct you."

Harry shrugged. It sounded good enough to him.

Father Mallory reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone.

As he made the call, he walked away from the workers so as not the be disturbed. One of the men scrubbing looked up. "Hello, Harry."

Harry waved a bit and replied. "Hi." He then asked, "Do I know you?"

The man smiled a bit and said, "My Grand-daughter dropped off your wallet earlier?"

Harry was surprised. He didn't expect to be speaking to THIS entity again so soon.

"Yeah, Joan freaks out a bit too sometimes. Anyway, I'm glad to see you agreed to help out."

Harry shrugged. "You know my life: A lot of Traveling and a lot of jobs like this."

The man considered that. "Yes. Well, I don't have much to say to you as you seem to be doing fine without my input. But can I make a suggestion?"

Harry looked expectant. The scrubbing version of God stood up to rinse the rag he was using in a bucket nearby.

"Take the offer. Even if it seems reluctant."

Harry was confused. "Offer? What offer?"

The man inspected the bucket even as he replied. "You'll see. You have a tendency to try not to force yourself into unwelcome places. But sometimes, reluctance does not imply disagreement."

Harry considered the man … well, the deity. "Any other suggestions?"

The man looked at him and turned away to go clean the bucket. He absently waved as he made his way out.

Harry considered the enigma that was God. Joan had been pretty accurate in her descriptions.

* * *

Harry sat nervously in the passenger seat of Kevin Girardi's car. When Helen was contacted by Father Mallory, she was taken aback a bit by the report that Joan had sent the man. She didn't know him.

She had decided that she wanted to meet the man and get her own take. There was already enough people around Joan that made her nervous – she didn't need any more. Considering that he appeared to be a good Samaritan, she withheld her suspicions enough to suggest he come eat with her family and then she would direct him to a motel or something.

She wanted her husband to weigh in on the man too.

So, as her son would be driving past the area to come home for dinner, she had called him to ask him to pick Harry Planter up and bring him home.

Kevin was mildly interested in meeting whoever this stranger was – Kevin was curious and gregarious by nature: He liked meeting new people and getting their story.

Harry shrugged in response to Kevin's question. "Just in the area and decided to help out."

Kevin's curiosity was nowhere near sated. "How did you come to be in the area?"

Harry smiled. As far as reporters went, the man was far more pleasant than most. "I'm kind of on a personal journey." He paused for a moment to consider how to word it. "Er. Have you ever heard of walkabout?"

Kevin thought about it for a moment. "I think I heard it in a movie one time. That's in Australia, right?"

Harry laughed. "Yeah. Well, the natives in Australia tend to take a few months to walk around and live as things come up – kind of a spiritual journey. You could say I'm doing a similar thing but instead of the outback, I move through different countries and communities playing it by ear as I go."

Kevin thought about it. "Wow." He paused a moment and asked, "How do you live? Make money?"

Harry sighed. "Money's never been a big issue with me. I inherited a decent amount from my parents. And I don't tend to spend much."

Kevin decided that he'd ask more when they were eating.

* * *

Will watched as this strange man sat at his family's table and easily talked to everyone there. His wife had called him and asked him to give his take on the man. So far, he seemed alright – but then again, Sam Wyatt had seemed alright. Lucy Preston had seemed alright at first – even if that changed rather quickly. He was not a man to take chances.

Finally, at an opportune point in the conversation, Will asked, "So, how long are you in the US for anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure."

Will tried to be casual as he asked, "When is your visa up?"

Harry looked thoughtful and then pulled out his wallet. "You know? I've never thought about it." He reviewed his wallet and passport and then asked, "What's the date again?"

Everyone was surprised. "You don't know the date?"

Harry shrugged with that small smile. "I tend not to pay attention." Harry handed his papers over to Will. "Want to check them out?"

Will accepted the items and then looked them over. He looked at Harry and then asked, "You mind if I make a phone call?"

Harry shrugged and grinned. "It's okay by me. Have to make sure I'm not some Psycho, after all."

Joan squawked. "I told you! The person who introduced him I trust completely! How can you …"

Harry interrupted Joan with a "Hey!" Will looked curiously at him, wondering how he would handle this. "It's okay, Joan. It's not unexpected."

Joan looked aghast. "How can you just accept people questioning your character when you've done nothing wrong! You even volunteered to help at the Church!"

Harry just smiled and replied, "Have you ever heard the Russian Proverb, 'doveryai no proveryai'?"

She shook her head, not having calmed down a bit.

"It means, 'Trust, but Verify.' Your Dad doesn't know me. You really don't know me – even if you and I BOTH trust the person who introduced us. He's just a father watching out for his family. Nothing wrong with that. And if he has more resources to do so than most fathers, there's nothing wrong with that either."

She agreed to the idea in principle. She still looked put out, though.

Will suddenly felt much more friendly toward this strange visitor. He nodded his head and excused himself so that he could make his call.

* * *

Harry wasn't worried too much about Will's check. If he knew Aphrael – and he did – there would be sufficient evidence of his existence so as not to warrant more attention.

So, he continued his conversations with the rest of the family even as Will was absent.

Within about 10 minutes, Will walked back in and had a very odd look on his face. Joan was the first to see it. She asked, with some irritation, "What?"

Will very deliberately kept looking at Harry as he said, "I'm kind of surprised to find that we've been hosting a decorated hero and no one told me."

Harry looked at him with complete solemnity and said, "What did you find?"

"When my guy looked you up, a flag was sent out. Imagine the surprise when my guy got a call from the State Department almost immediately. He was told that Harry Planter, Knight Commander, Order of the Bath, was to be given all consideration. And that all inquiries should be sent to that particular office. Of course, when asked, all they would say was that the information on you was classified by the British Government."

Everyone was looking at him with some intensity. Harry shrugged and said, "I've done a few things. Both as a civilian and an Au … a Police Officer. After a personal tragedy, I decided to do some traveling. I thought I left my titles and status far away."

Luke, who hadn't said much, asked, "Titles?"

Harry paused as he considered how to answer that. "A few noble titles I inherited – most effectively obsolete or very obscure. Some titles even predate the Kingdom of England, predecessor to the United Kingdom." He paused and then continued with perfect seriousness, "And I'd appreciate if that information stayed completely in this room. I don't need the attention."

Surprisingly, the most immediate support came from Joan. "I agree. Harry is just a friend who's helping out." She turned to Luke. "Not even Grace. It's none of her business. And definitely not Friedman."

Luke was taken aback. Joan was not someone who appeared to have any sense of circumspection or tact. For her to demand complete secrecy was … shocking.

If Luke only knew.

He nodded reluctantly. "Grace would probably just moan about oppressors and the useless noble class anyway."

Everyone who knew Grace had to fight back snickers, even Helen.

Joan turned toward Kevin, "And no stories. This is private – not for public consumption."

Kevin nodded, even as he considered the man who sat at the family table.

Finally, the dinner had broken up. Will took Helen aside and suggested allowing him to stay on the couch for the night.

As much as she liked the man, she felt nervous about offering. But she didn't voice it. She turned and walked back into the kitchen. "Harry, why don't you stay here tonight and tomorrow I'll get Lilly to help find a room?"

Harry considered her carefully. He could tell that she wasn't totally comfortable about offering and he would normally have refused, but …

He stood and bowed briefly. "My thanks for offering the comfort of your home tonight. I'd normally insist on finding my own accommodations but it has been a long day."

Helen nodded and moved to gather blankets and a pillow. Will, who was making his way upstairs to divest himself of his work clothes, said in passing, "I guess he really is nobility."

Helen considered what she had seen and privately had to agree. He did have a certain air about him.

* * *

It was almost 10:00. As the kids had school and everyone had work the next day, 10:00 was close to the end of the day for the house.

Helen took the time to make sure that Harry was comfortable. She gave instructions and directions as to where things were even as she made up the couch. Harry had offered to do it himself, but she insisted.

Finally, Harry - who really did have a good sense of what people were thinking - volunteered, "Would it help if I told you that I am a widower and that I still miss my wife terribly?"

All of Helen's thoughts came to an abrupt halt even as she stood and looked at their guest. "Huh?"

Harry smiled sadly as he said, "I understand being nervous about a stranger in your home, especially with a teenage daughter in the house. I only tell you this because it might relieve some concerns. I happen to be a widower - one of the decorations I got was in an incident where I lost my wife and my whole family and many friends. Even though I've decided to live on, I still love my wife dearly and have to be prodded rather hard to put forth enough interest in the female side of the species to have those urges. Besides, I'm an adult and your daughter is not. You don't have to worry about that."

Helen considered Harry as she processed what he said. She was a bit surprised to realize that he had been pretty spot on with guessing her thoughts - which weren't even that clear to her. She nodded and said, "I'm sorry to hear that. I'll try not to make prejudgements."

Harry lightened up and smiled a bit. "Not a problem." He paused and then continued, "Besides, if I had a daughter like yours, I'd keep an eye out too. I'll even help you to watch all the other men and boys when I can."

Helen smiled. She could just imagine Harry playing a very effective older, protective brother.


	3. The Synagogue Fire

Joan sat at the table in the garage, looking at old pictures of her family.

She came across pictures of her parents before they were married. Her father's picture was in his uniform, all serious. Her mother's picture showed her cheerfully smiling at the camera.

She put the two pictures next to each other and considered them.

Suddenly, she was interrupted. "**Now you're getting warm, Jojo.**" She gasped and looked over. There was her friend Judith. As she tried to calm herself and nonchalantly return to her activity, Judith continued. "**A cop and an artist. An avenger and a visionary. What kind of kid did you think they'd have?**"

Annoyed she replied, "**Can you stop showing up like that? I mean, I miss you but it freaks me out because none of my other friends are dead!**"

Judith scoffed. "**Losers**!"

Joan considered what she was told. "**So, it's meant to be. It's some kind of calling**."

Judith replied, "**Circumstances conspire. Energies converge into powerful new forces. That's where you come in**." Judith looked at her seriously and said, "**You have to go**!"

Judith turned and with deliberation walked through the table and door. Joan looked off, wondering what that was all about.

* * *

_Dancing. Twirling. She was enjoying the night and the garden. The sprinklers turned on and she was surrounded by water. She looked over and saw …_

_She called out enthusiastically, "**Come on in**!"_

_Grace stood back and said, "**I can't**!"_

_She cheerfully inquired, "**Why not**?"_

_Grace said, as though to a small child at a party, "**Cause it's on fire**."_

_She was confused. "**No**!" She looked around and turned back. "**It's only water**."_

_Suddenly sparks flew up from the ground all around her. She became frightened. The sparks turned into fire. Now, instead of a wall of water it was a wall of fire. She and Grace looked at each other across the wall. Grace looked at her, waiting, watching…._

She gasped and sat up. She was on a chair in the livingroom. She looked around. She heard sirens in the background. As she looked at the door, Joan rushed in, "**There's something wrong**."

She tried to get her bearings. She was on the chair because her husband had been called back to work. She looked over. Harry had woken up and was considering the two women. There was a look in his eyes …

They looked at each other. Helen stood up. "Let's go."

Harry, hesitantly, spoke. "You want a bodyguard?"

Helen looked at him. She glanced over and saw that Joan looked relieved somehow. She nodded.

* * *

They arrived at the center of the sirens. It was Grace's fathers synagogue. Grace stood there, wrapped in her father's embrace. A firefighter walked over, carrying a cloth covered scroll.

Joan rushed over. Grace saw her and murmered to her father, "Incoming."

He father let go and turned. Grace's friend Joan was on a mission and so he stepped back. Joan arrived and wrapped Grace in a hug.

She was a bit surprised. Joan knew that Grace had a thing about personal space. For some reason though, she didn't feel as uncomfortable as she would normally be. Surprised, she allowed Joan to embrace her … until it got weird and then she stepped back.

Instinctively, Joan quickly moved back. "I'm so sorry! Is there anything I can do?"

Grace was confused. Her mind was still numb. She looked around and saw her father thanking the firefighter who had retrieved the Torah unharmed. Joan's mom had moved over to talk to Chief Girardi. There was a man who was standing off and looking at the fire, an unknowable look in his eyes.

She asked curiously, "Who's that?"

Joan turned and looked. Joan's voice took on that tone she had when she was being truthful … but deceptive. It normally annoyed her but she was too numb.

"Oh. That's Harry. He's a friend of a friend from out of town. He decided to stick around and help out at Mom's church to get it cleaned up. The 'rents offered him the couch for the night."

She was confused. "Your Dad let a stranger stay in your house?"

Joan said dismissively, "Use to be a cop in England. Decorated. You know, the Blue Wall and all that. Cops look after their own. He came to act as bodyguard."

Grace considered Joan. She cocked her head and considered that. Why would Joan and her Mom need a bodyguard?

"Anyway," Joan looked around, "maybe you should come over to our house for the night. Your dad's likely to be dealing with this all night."

* * *

Rabbi Polanski went quickly to clear out the back seat of his car. The Torah would have to be moved to his home until the synagogue was repaired. When the firefighter had asked if he wanted it in his trunk he was horrified – one did not treat the Torah as a random object. It should be as respected as any person.

The firefighter apologized and stood there while the Rabbi made space.

Harry looked over. "You want me to take that so you can go back to fighting the fire?"

The firefighter looked at Harry and said, "That would be nice, Harry. For the Rabbi and his people, it's precious. I'm certain you can understand that."

Harry realized who he was talking to. "That's almost biblical: God saving the Torah."

Firefighter God clucked at him. "It's not about the scroll. It's about the people and what they'd feel if it was lost."

Harry nodded in understanding. He carefully took the scroll, listening to instructions as he was given them. He held it reverently, the way it would be carried by a member of the Jewish faith.

Before he moved off Firefighter God said, "It's given over to each generation – much like certain items are in your world. Joan's friend Grace has a necklace which is an heirloom as well. It would be something you'd not be surprised to see in a Gringotts vault."

Harry was confused.

"Anyway, keep it safe." Firefighter God nodded toward Joan and Grace. "And keep her safe as well." Harry got the idea he was referring more to the blonde than the brunette.

The firefighter turned and moved back toward the synagogue.

Harry, with deliberation, walked toward the car which the Rabbi was preparing. For some reason, a small snatch of phoenix song that he had heard in the past came into his head. He had the outrageous desire to hum it as he walked, and so he did so.

* * *

Rabbi Polanski turned to signal the firefighter, but instead of the firefighter a different man was carrying the Torah. He walked slowly, with reverence, as though he understood the importance of the scroll.

As the man approached, he heard the man humming. The Rabbi was surprised. It was the exact tune that went with the prayer that his father sung when he himself was Bar Mitzvahed as a young boy. He remembered his father singing that song as he carried to Torah to him.

The man stopped in front of him and carefully handed the scroll over, just as his father had done so many years before. He idly noticed that Grace and Joan had walked up behind the man.

He started singing his own prayer as he accepted the scroll. He continued as he moved to place it in the back seat.

When he finished and it was secured, he turned and saw his daughter looking at him with those eyes that were too old. Joan was the first to speak. "Rabbi Polanski? With …" she looked over at the synagogue deliberately and then back, "the things you are dealing with, I asked Grace to stay over tonight with me. Is that okay?"

He felt relieved. It was a gift from God. "That would be more than acceptable. I will be involved long into the night here and it would comfort me to know she was safe."

He turned toward the man who had brought the scroll. "And I thank you for your help." He paused, "Who are you, by the way?"

The man smiled. "I'm a visiting friend. I happened to be at the Girardi's and offered to come with and keep an eye out … keep them safe and all that." The Rabbi nodded. The man then continued. His tone left no question as to his intentions. "And, since I'm playing bodyguard, I will help watch over Grace and make certain she is kept safe this night."

Grace looked a bit offended, but Joan shushed her. The Rabbi considered the man and felt he could be trusted. "That is also acceptable. My thanks for watching my little girl while I am distracted."

The man nodded his acknowledgement. He turned to his daughter and embraced her. When they parted, he murmured a blessing in Hebrew. His daughter, unusually, did not protest.

* * *

Joan walked them over to their car and then made her way to her mother. Grace considered the man. "What was that all about? I don't need some strange guy watching me – I'm fine on my own!"

The man smiled and replied, "Yes. But it wasn't about you, was it? With the fire, your father certainly needed someone to help carry the burden. My offer was less about watching you and more about that."

She paused. "So you're not going to get all protective and stuff?"

Harry grinned. "Oh, no! I keep my word. I won't be hounding you – but I promised to keep you safe tonight. I'll be doing that."

She scoffed. "Whatever!" Grace opened the door and sat down in the backseat. She was kind of surprised that she wasn't feeling the normal suspicion she had of strangers. Probably because she trusted Joan and her family. Whatever …

* * *

Harry sat on the couch, thinking. He was wide awake after all the excitement. He heard the soft patter of feet and looked up. Joan came through the door.

"You're still up!"

Joan sat down on the chair her mother had fallen asleep in earlier. "Yeah. Kind of want to talk to my dad when he gets home. After Grace fell asleep, I didn't want to be moving around and waking her up."

Harry nodded. He was still thinking. He turned his head toward Joan. "Is Grace wearing a necklace tonight?"

Joan was confused. "Um. Yeah. Well, she took it off to sleep, but it's on the table next to the bed."

Harry paused. "Can you bring it down for a minute?"

Joan looked suspicious. "Why?"

Harry smiled, "A suggestion from our mutual friend. I plan on using my magic on it."

Joan was now really interested. If she knew Grace – and she did – she wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. Joan rushed to retrieve it.

She brought it back in and set it on the table. Harry stood up. "Maybe better to do this in the garage – the concrete floor won't be affected accidentally.

Joan led him out and cleared a space. She really wanted to see this.

Harry pulled out his wand and sent a spell toward the rest of the house. Joan looked at him curiously. "Mild sleeping charm. So they won't wake up and disturb us for a few minutes."

Joan nodded. Harry then took his wand and began making intricate motions and speaking in what she thought was Latin. The stone on the necklace glowed and the glow brightened as he worked.

Suddenly, the stone flashed – and then it looked as it always had. Joan was curious. "What did you do?"

He motioned for her to pick it up. "Acting on the suggestion, I put a few wards and charms on it. Anyone who approaches her with hostile intent will tend to become distracted easily. Slightly paranoid. That should help keep her safe."

Joan was really curious. "What if the paranoia causes them to attack?"

Harry grinned as they walked back inside. "Ah. You noticed that. If someone overcomes the feeling and continues to approach, it will cause a feeling of mild anxiety in whomever wears it – it will cause them to move away in the opposite direction of the hostile intent." Harry sighed. "If this world had magical users, I could have made it warm up or light up in response instead, thereby alerting the wearer. But, with magic being unusual here I didn't think it would be wise to do such a thing."

Joan snorted. "Yeah. That'd kind of freak me out if I didn't know." She moved to the stairs. "I'm going to put this back and then come back down."

Harry nodded and then sat back down, still thinking.

Joan soon returned and the two talked softly.

* * *

Will walked in the door of his house. He was disgusted by whoever had started the fire. They had to catch this guy – whoever he was.

He looked over and saw two people looking at him. He was a bit surprised.

"What are you two doing up?"

Joan, who had been sitting across from Harry, stood up and rushed to her father to hug him. "I couldn't sleep and neither could Harry. I wanted to talk to you – he's just being protective." She snorted. "Grace was a bit annoyed when he promised her father to keep her safe tonight."

Will smiled. He wasn't all that upset that their visitor had taken it upon himself to keep an eye on his family and his daughter's friend. He was a cop – he understood the imperative to do such things.

Joan dragged him around a corner. Will asked, "**How's Grace**?"

Joan said with some humor, "**Snoring**."

"**Heh.** **It's good she can sleep**."

"**Dad, I think I know who did it.**"

"**What?**" he asked incredulously.

Joan said with some intensity. "**The guy who rescued Adam. Ryan Hunter. I had the weirdest feeling about him that night. And I've seen him since. And we talked. And he … has this thing … with God.**" She tried to convey the depth of her convictions with her tone.

"**He told you this**?" Will asked with some surprise.

Joan quietly continued – as though the words were too offensive to be said too loud. "**He thinks he's smarter than God. He thinks it's some kind of a game**." Will's face took on a look of mild skepticism. "**You just have to trust me on this**."

Joan recognized the look on her Dad's face. It was the same one he used whenever anyone brought up God.

He tried his wise father voice. "**Joan. A lot of people think they're smarter than God. A lot of people have big problems in this area – I'm one of them. I don't burn down religious institutions.**"

She had to make him understand! "**No. This guy is different. I know it. And don't ask me how I know. I just do. So, please. Once in our lives trust that I might know something you don't.**"

He tried to make her understand. "**Ryan Hunter was just in my office today. He's on the Citizen's Watchdog Committee. He works with the Police. I appreciate you wanting to help, but …**"

Before he could continue on, a voice interrupted from the next room. "Can I make an observation?"

The two were surprised to hear Harry's voice. They moved around the corner to look at him. He stared ahead, looking solemn – with eyes too scarred by a past they didn't know.

Will asked, "What did you want to say?"

Harry looked at Will with some intensity. "Your daughter was raised by a police officer. And although she's a teenager and a bit immature at times," Joan looked at him witheringly, "she's not as unobservant as you might suppose. She has good instincts."

Will almost scoffed. This man didn't know about Joan's misadventures!

"You ever have a gut feeling?" Will nodded, conceding that point. "Intuition isn't some supernatural thing or mumbo-jumbo. Our mind correlates things we've observed and things that we know. Even if it's not conscious. And when your mind finishes correlating it – it makes a leap. You know things. You might not know _how_ you know things – but you do."

Will considers that. He didn't want to say anything against his daughter but he was fighting this conversation … subconsciously. "I understand that. I do. But Joan's a kid. She hasn't seen enough to know everything. She's made a few … odd decisions …"

Harry snorted. "Like the time she thought she was being stalked when she started working? Or the time she drove off on the day she got her driver's license? Or the kid she went to the prom with that pulled a pistol?"

Will was taken aback. "How do you know these things?"

"We talked earlier." Joan had sat back down and was watching the conversation. Finally! Someone on her side!

Will replied, "Well, yeah. Things like that …"

"How about the serial killer that was speeding down the road to get away from the girl who suddenly protested too loudly when she was exiting the store where she worked?" Will was shocked. He didn't know about that. He remembered the case quite clearly – it was the first time he thought his daughter was crazy.

"How about the fact that your daughter showed up on some random road just when her father was in desperate need of assistance? When his wife was sitting at home terrified because she didn't know where her husband was." Will looked at Joan. She looked calm and serene.

"Or how about the fact that a homicidal kid who had a history of rage and feelings of persecution did NOT pull a Columbine and go on a shooting spree – all because of being shown a small amount of kindness from a girl at school … the first time anyone was ever on his side?" Will was looking at his daughter in amazement. A whole bunch of little things that he had never put together before coming into focus.

"Or the boat she suddenly starts building and completely cocks up – thereby giving her father and brother a common goal where they hadn't had one in months. Or the sculpture she broke which prevented a friend from dropping out of school and trying to work as an artist – when he didn't have the support or experience necessary." He paused and then finished, "I think you'll find that your daughter at her most crazy is when she the closest to being … _right_."

Will was overwhelmed. He sat down heavily as he correlated all of Joan's stunts with what was happening at the time. He remembered the yard sale – which caused his wife to confront the rape for the first time in years. He remembered the sudden involvement in mock trial – which led to the prevention of a misguided confession. He remembered Her sudden involvement in musicals – which led to his own healing after that whole lawsuit.

When confronted truly by the truth – he had to admit that his daughter was far less crazy or vapid than he ever gave her credit for.

He stood up and deliberately walked over to Joan and pulled her up and then hugged her. She latched onto him, one of those special father-daughter hugs he loved so much. He whispered into her hair, "I'm so sorry if I ever implied that you were crazy or stupid."

Joan snorted and quietly replied into his shoulder, "That's okay. I usually felt crazy or stupid – even when it finally worked out. I think it's the normal human condition."

Will watched as Harry made his way out of the room, giving them privacy. He then forgot about him and went back to hugging his daughter.

* * *

Harry watched as the two made their way upstairs. Will nodded to him, telling him he could go back to the couch. He called up quietly, "About that guy … doveryai no proveryai."

Will paused and then replied just as quietly, "Trust, but Verify." He'd have to do some checks on Ryan Hunter. If his daughter said he was a bad guy, he'd look into it.

Harry waited another fifteen minutes and then cast another sleeping charm on the remainder of the house – he didn't want the two who had gone up earlier to interrupt him.

He then walked around the inside of the house casting protective spells on the house: Fireproofing, pest preventions … normal household wards where he came from. He cast a notice me not charm and made his way outside to complete the work on the outside of the house. He looked around and found a random piece of stone which would work as a ward stone and drew a few runes.

It wouldn't be good enough for a truly magical house, but he wasn't trying to build wards on a megalithic structure either.

Once he was finished, he made his way back inside. He looked at the clock: 3:15. He'd only had a couple of hours of sleep. And he'd probably be better off at least getting a couple hours more. There was one more thing he wanted to check though …

He stole into the room of the eldest son. He had been curious as to why he was crippled. HE cast a deeper sleep charm and then performed a diagnostic.

The results were surprising.

The man's nerves were actually attempting to heal but a misaligned bone kept prodding the bottom of the spinal cord and wreaking havoc on the healing that could be done. He thought about it. He actually felt a bit relived that he didn't have the potions he would need – it would be too tempting.

He did, however, have a bone realignment charm. Madam Pomfrey had used it on occasion after a brutal practice session or game. He silenced the room just in case and then cast the charm. He heard a distinctive "pop" from the man's back.

Harry then cast a few spells which he had learned once. They were the same spells that St. Mungo's used to stimulate the muscles on patients in their wards when they didn't want the muscles to atrophy. It wasn't as if he could do a whole course of treatments on the man – but a little kickstart to exercise and then relax the muscles couldn't hurt. It would also help realign the muscles around that misaligned spinal bone – the muscles had been in the wrong position so long that they might have forced it back out of place if he hadn't performed the spell.

He removed the sleep spell from the door as he quietly exited. He looked at the clock – 3:35. He'd have a couple more hours to sleep himself.

* * *

A/N: Instead of Omakes, I thought I'd add little blurbs which kind of highlighted Harry's effect on the universes he visits.

FUTURE CONSEQUENCES:

_100 years from Harry's Visit_

Joan Schmeitzel, Great-Granddaughter of Grace and Luke Girardi, fingered the necklace her mother had given her at her bat Mitzvah. It was an old family heirloom, passed from daughter to daughter (or niece if there was no daughter). While she had retained some of her family's disdain for useless ritual, the necklace was a loved and prized heirloom.

Suddenly, she felt a powerful urge to run. She didn't know why. But, she did. She never saw the serial rapist who had just been foiled. She also never heard the news story about the rapist who was caught because his sudden paranoia had made him sloppy.

* * *

_25 years from Harry's Visit_

Joan rushed home after a frantic call from her daughter. She had been given the house when her mother had decided to move into a retired community. She had grown up and fell in love and had a family in that house.

She pulled up to see fire trucks rolling up their hoses. She rushed out. "Judith! What is it? What happened?"

Her daughter volunteered, "A small mistake with a cooking project." She looked down. "I'm sorry, Mom."

She grasped her daughter in her embrace. "It's okay, honey. I'm just glad to see you're alright."

Finally she walked toward the obvious leader of the truck. "What's the damage?"

The man was cheerful. "Your family is extremely lucky. Grease fires like that can take down the whole house fast. For some reason, the fire stayed in the kitchen and you only lost your stove. You dodged a bullet, ma'am."

Joan once again hugged her daughter as she watched the people clean up their equipment.

* * *

(Mild references to coitus here – nothing graphic)

_7 months from Harry's visit_

The two new lovers both finished simultaneously. This was their second time ever doing this. It was the first time the experience had been fully satisfying for both parties. The first time had taken Lilly's virginity.

The 26-year old former nun looked down at her 21-year old fiancé in happiness. She was Catholic enough to wait until they were engaged – but waiting for the marriage in a few months was too long. And so, the two had begun this journey with solemn vows that they would cleave unto no other – even if they hadn't had the marriage mass yet.

Lilly pulled her leg from over her fiancé and layed down next to him, snuggling into his side. That was so much better than self-gratification!

She opened her eyes slightly to look down at her and Kevin's bodies – the first time she had taken the chance to just admire him without the nervousness of what they would be doing to mask it.

She noticed something odd. "Kevin?"

Kevin opened his eyes. He hadn't ever had a release like that. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"Are your eyes open?"

"No."

"Open your eyes."

He did so. "Okay." He looked down Lilly's body, admiring it. He then looked in her eyes. "What did you want me to see?"

She moved her arm and pointed at his own body. He looked down and saw something that he hadn't seen unless deliberately set up in over three years.

Instead of lying completely flat down the bed, as they had done since his accident, his knees were slightly raised – as though in his climax he had subconsciously pulled them in.

"Huh." He looked at his legs and then consciously tried something. He looked between his slightly raised knees at his big toe. His face became white.

Lilly got worried. "What?"

"Sit up and look my toe."

She did. He admired her for a moment as she did so. She said, "So, what did you want me to see."

"Just watch."

Once again, he mentally forced himself to concentrate only on his toe – and then it twitched very slightly.

Lilly's face took on a look of shocked joy. She looked at his face. "Does that mean … what I think it means?"

He looked at her, at his toe, and then back at her. With a deadpan look, he said, "I guess Marvin was right."

Lilly was briefly confused. "Huh?"

"Marvin Gay. Like he said, I guess all I needed was Sexual Healing."

Lilly's remaining insecurities about sex seemed to disappear after that day.


	4. Sacraments and Sanctuary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bold text is from Joan of Arcadia TV show original. To see how this tied in with that. And for those who disagree with me on a religious basis – Sorry. This is meant to be harmless fun.

Harry considered the wall. The spray paint that marred the surface was ugly. He carefully looked at both the painted and unpainted surface – well, the spray-painted and non-sprayed areas. There was no help for it. It couldn't be washed off. It had blended too well – it had cured.

He moved to speak to the priest. "It's going to have to be painted. The spray paint is physically the same as the areas around it now."

Father Ken sighed. "We'll have to cover it was something. If we paint it now, it won't dry fast enough for tonight."

Harry was curious. "You're planning on having services?"

Father Ken nodded. There was no uncertainty in that gesture. "We need to get things back as soon as possible. We've already lost several days and the parish is feeling it. We WILL have Mass – they need it."

Harry thought about it. "Have you considered getting primer tinted? It dries much faster than paint. While it's not as good as a full painting because it gathers dust easier, it would be good enough for tonight. And then you can finish with a correct covering of paint after."

Father Ken considered that. "That sounds like an excellent idea." He turned and called out, "Lilly!"

The attractive brunette who was arranging the few undamaged statues of saints around the altar looked up and then made her way over.

"Up to making a run to the hardware store?"

Lily said, "Sure. What do we need?"

"Harry suggested getting them to tint primer instead of trying to get painting fully done today. It will dry sufficiently to have Mass tonight."

Lilly considered that. "Huh. That's an idea."

Harry moved back to the wall and found an area that wasn't as visible. He asked for a utility knife. Lilly took one from her pocket – she happened to have been working with it earlier. Harry carefully removed a small square. "This is the color."

Lilly looked at it and then back to Harry. "Why don't you come with?"

Harry shrugged. "Okay."

The two returned an hour later, several cans of primer and paint in hand.

Father Ken considered that. "Okay. We have," he looked at his watch, "six hours. How long does the primer take to dry?"

Harry looked at the can. "It says 45 minutes. But at least eight hours before you can paint over it. It will be dry to the touch but not fully set after that first hour."

"Good enough. We have a few volunteers that will help."

When Father Ken returned from an errand a couple of hours later, he was surprised at the progress made. Instead of having every volunteer paint, Harry had one preparing pans and rollers and other equipment. One was managing the tape that had been used for edging. One was moving from painter to painter, cleaning up any messes as soon as they were made.

As a result, there was no large cleanup that would have to be done. The walls were almost indistinguishable from walls that had not been defaced. The only difference was that they were slightly off-color – the product of the primer not having fully dried yet.

Lilly, who had been working in back, was just as surprised. "Wow. It looks almost exactly the same." She turned and looked at Harry with some amusement. "I guess there's a difference between supervising community service delinquents and driven volunteers."

Harry shrugged. "I've had some experience. We'll have the equipment cleaned up within the hour. Where should we put the stuff we haven't used yet and the tools?"

Lilly showed him the area which held the tools and the supplies. There was a sink to clean the tools as well. With three hours left, the walls were as ready as they could be.

Father Ken walked up to Harry. "We hadn't actually planned beyond this today. Do you want to come back tomorrow or will you attend Mass with us tonight?"

Harry smiled with some embarrassment. "I'm actually not Catholic." He paused. "I'm not even Christian. My relatives that I grew up with claimed to be good Christians – even if they in no way reflected that in their normal life. I wouldn't want to offend your parishioners."

Father Ken considered the man before him. He was obviously a good man. That he wasn't even Christian was a surprise. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure."

"What faith do you follow?"

Harry considered that. "I would say that I don't follow any faith. Although I have unshakable certainty in my belief in God – the same God you believe in – I don't find any religious rituals or practices particularly useful to me."

Father Ken considered that. Before he could reply, Lilly – the former nun – interjected, "You could become Catholic. We could help with that. Although they might not seem 'useful' – many people find them comforting."

Harry turned to Lilly. Father Ken, he noticed, restrained his urges to admonish the woman. "I appreciate the offer. However, it's not a matter of comfort to me – it's a matter of … belief." He looked around. "I feel the sanctity of this building. I feel the hurt that it experienced – even though it's healing now." He looked at Lilly. "I feel your anger about this travesty. I feel your righteous indignation. You find strength in your faith and its practices and for someone to defile that is … painful."

He turned toward Father Ken. "You, however, are a surprise. You exude no hatred, no anger. You have confusion, and sadness, and compassion for your flock – and the people who committed this heinous act." He considered the man before him. "You, perhaps, are the most definitive example of what it means to be a good Christian – a good Catholic – that I have even seen. You do this because it's the best way you know to help."

He turned back toward Lilly, who exuded a little bit of both shame and confusion. "My faith is unshaken. I live, and I do good where I can. My method works for me, where the same life wouldn't work for you. A long time ago I attended a lecture by a man who promoted his teachings as a spiritual path. For those attending, most of them, it was a workable path. One of his lessons stuck with me. To paraphrase: You might have a solution which works. You may know that you're right, without any uncertainty or hesitation. But if in applying this solution to someone else it doesn't work – the answer you have is wrong. Because a solution is only a proper solution if it solves the problem."

He smiled. "My solution works for me. It doesn't lend itself to being an answer for others. But that doesn't matter. Your solution works for you. Father Ken here has his answers. We're all working toward a closer relationship with God – in our own way."

Lilly's confusion was not reduced. She looked over at Father Ken – and he only smiled and nodded as though that was perfectly comprehensible. She decided she needed to pray for guidance as she turned to go back to what she had been doing.

Father Ken sighed as he watched Lilly walk away. "She's going to need some guidance." He turned back to Harry with a rueful smile. "Your little talk probably knocked her around a bit spiritually – but she'll be better for it when all is said and done. Anyway, you don't need to be Catholic to attend Mass. While many of the sacraments wouldn't be available to you, the liturgy might be useful or uplifting."

Harry smiled. "I appreciate the offer. I'll keep out of sight. Lilly will be showing me the room she found for me after the service." He looked around. "You mind if I look around and get an idea of what is left to do?"

"Certainly. Feel free." Father Ken nodded and then made his way toward his office – he still had preparations to complete.

Harry walked around. He looked behind the bunting off to the side and found walls that seemed to be missing something. He looked over toward another volunteer. "What's this?"

The man walked over and sighed as he looked. "The confessional booths were damaged. Father Ken set up a curtained off area to take confessions. But it isn't as good as the booth. The damaged booths were moved into the back to be repaired." The man walked off back to his task.

Finally Harry found the room containing the booths. Harry looked over several booths. As there were different parts damaged on different booths, he got the idea of what a proper booth should look like.

He glanced around and carefully entered a damaged booth. He cast a notice-me-not charm on the booth so that he wouldn't be disturbed and then used his wand to make what would look like gradual repairs. He couldn't repair them fully, but he could make a good start. He then exited the booth, removing the charm as he left.

He moved to find the good father. He looked through a few rooms. He found one which had the boxes he had seen being filled with damaged statuary and other items. Finally he found Father Ken's office. He knocked on the doorframe to get his attention.

Father Ken looked up and smiled when he saw who his visitor was. "Harry. Can I help you?"

"You mind if I make an attempt to use different parts from different Confessional booths to try to get a few up and running?"

Father Ken was surprised. "I don't know. It's only a couple of hours until services. Will you have time to get any done?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. But I guarantee that my activities won't interrupt or delay services."

Father Ken sighed. "Well, you may certainly make an attempt. Two or three booths would be wonderful."

Harry nodded and then moved back to the room that had the booths.

He closed and locked the door and cast a repelling charm. He really didn't want to be disturbed. He carefully looked at the eight booths that were in the room. He thought he could get away with fixing four in two hours. He'd have to make the remaining ones look like he had taken them apart deliberately. He'd put them in parts and then repair the parts and let someone else put them together.

His estimates were pretty accurate. It took twenty minutes for him to "cope" with the repairs. It took an hour and ten minutes to make it look like the other booths were being used to get parts together.

However, he left them in such a condition that any reasonably competent person could put them together in a few hours. He also left "evidence" that someone had taken the time to laboriously remove paint from the stained walls.

He found the large wheeled platform which was used to move the booths and levitated one onto it. He took down his charms and carefully rolled the booth toward the hall.

As soon as the booth entered, he was confronted by several wide-eyed volunteers. "I got four together swapping parts and with a bit of work. I think we can get them placed on this side for tonight. The others will have to be placed after they're fixed. Can I get some help?"

There were four fairly strong men who rushed to help him place the booths. They each took a corner and lifted it while Harry pulled the platform back. Once that was done, they carefully lowered it to the floor. The bunting had been pushed off to the side.

He turned toward the person who had moved the bunting. "Can you move the platform while these guys get another booth on it? I'll get the curtains moved out of the way."

Harry's plan worked. With five minutes to spare until the doors were opened for the congregation, the four booths had been placed along one side of the hall. When Father Ken and his assistant priests arrived they were surprised to find that they had actual booths for the sacrament tonight.

Father Ken quickly inspected each and ensured that the little doors worked properly. The side where the penitent sat was in excellent repair in each booth. There were still a few imperfections on the side where the priest sat – but it was good enough for tonight. He'd get another volunteer to work on finishing those repairs. Finally Father Ken walked over to Harry who was supervising the last volunteers in moving the platform back to the room where the damaged booths were.

"Harry! You did a wonderful job. I don't know how to thank you for this. It's a miracle." Father Ken, Harry noticed, had lost some of the sadness that he had been exuding.

He shrugged and said depreciatively, "Just a judicious use of time and energy. The other four will probably take much longer. But I plan on getting them as far as I can while services are going on."

Father Ken really wished that Harry would attend, but he wouldn't force him. "Well, on behalf of the parish, the diocese, and the priests who work here, I thank you for your sterling efforts in helping us recover from the acts committed."

Harry bowed briefly in acknowledgement. "You are quite welcome."

Father Ken nodded and then moved to open the doors – he had a Mass to give.

Harry quickly made his way back and waited in the room with the booths until the services started. Harry then began searching the building for a likely stone.

He was surprised to run into a janitor in the basement – he would have thought that everyone would be at the services. "Hello," he greeted the man.

The man looked at him and smiled. "Hello. Do you need something?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm just looking around. I did some work to help clean up the damage and didn't feel it was proper to attend the service. But I like old buildings – I like looking at the architecture."

The man smiled knowingly. "Yes. These buildings are quite lovely. Even down to the granite foundations."

Harry perked up. "Granite foundations? Are there any places where you can see those?"

"Sure, sure! I'll take you there."

Great! Harry thought. This was perfect.

The man continued the conversation casually, "You did a good job last night, Harry."

Harry stopped and looked at his companion, who only gave a enigmatic smile. "I know your great-grand-daughter?"

The man smiled. "You catch on quick."

Harry continued moving, smiling ruefully. "How am I doing so far?"

"How do you think you're doing?"

Harry considered that. "Well, it's a bit of work to not make the quick repairs too obvious. I think I'm doing an okay job of that."

The man chuckled. "Yes. The other booths make an excellent erector set."

Harry paused in his speech. "I'm a little …"

"Hesitant?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Hesitant. I'm a little hesitant in what I'm about to do. This isn't a school or a home. I don't want to put any wards up which would defeat the purpose of the building."

The Janitor didn't reply immediately, but only nodded. Finally he asked, "What's the purpose of the building?"

Harry considered. "Sanctuary. Safety. A place where people can take comfort in their religious practices. A place to think, to mend, to come to a new state."

The Janitor nodded. "So what are you going to do?"

Harry sighed through his teeth, even as he was led through a particular door. "Well, I don't want to prevent anyone with extreme anger or hatred from entering. Some people come here to work on that. I guess I want to ward it against ill intent toward the building and its denizens."

"I see. What else?"

"Well, there's no one in this world that uses magical travel so I don't have to worry about that. And it certainly doesn't need a Fidelius, repelling or notice-me-not charms."

"That's true."

Harry sighed. "I guess I'm limited to anti-hostility." He paused. "I wonder if I can change the confusion ward," he said to himself.

"Confusion ward?"

Harry didn't even notice his companion as the considered it. "There's a ward you can put up which causes confusion in those that are not residents unless they've been added. However, warding is just about Runic Language. If there's a ward to create confusion, can it be changed to a ward which fights confusion?"

"You can't get rid of confusion. You can only help people to clear their mind of distractions."

Harry paused when he remembered who he was talking to. "Any suggestions?" The Janitor just shrugged and smiled that enigmatic smile. Harry laughed. "No, I guess that would be inconsistent with your nature. You're a real 'Pull yourself up and make the effort to improve yourself" kind of God aren't you?"

"Now you're just asking questions you already know the answer to."

Harry looked at the Janitor and laughed. "You REALLY annoy Joan with that, you know?"

The Janitor sighed and then said chidingly, "Harry. Omniscient, remember?"

"Oh, I know. But it really is kind of amusing. Having been as confused before as she is right now, you appreciate how much you've progressed. When you see how much effort you wasted worrying about unimportant things when you were younger, the only way to get over it is to realize that you're just like everyone else: We all go through that. Most get over it." He paused. "Except you of course. You probably never went through that stage."

The Janitor looked around to make certain that they weren't overheard and then said conspiratorially to Harry, "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure." Harry was very amused.

"I did deliberately turn off the Omniscience once to see how thinking beings dealt with it – I decided that I owed you a reward for putting up with that. That's why a number of mammals get to engage in recreational sex instead of having mating seasons. I thought you deserved some payment for that part of the process."

Harry looked at God with shock, even as the Janitor smiled at him in amusement. Suddenly he laughed long and hard. That was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

Finally, he got a hold of himself. "I think I'll keep that to myself. I can just imagine the carnage it would create if I passed on THAT little tidbit."

God just shrugged. "Yes. You humans get far too caught up mixing recreation with religion – a drawback to free will. It definitely had its place in the past, but understanding negates the need for a number of religious doctrines from the past."

Harry just grinned. "I guess I won't feel so guilty next time I get cornered into it by someone who wants to have some innocent fun … or children." He got worried for a moment. "I hope I haven't been creating too many problems with that. I've been convinced to father a few children here and there. I hope I'm not messing up your family members' plans by doing so."

"It's fine, Harry. If someone had a problem, they should have taken steps to tell you beforehand."

Harry nodded and considered the exposed section of the foundation. He started carving Runes on the stone in a number of places, being as exacting as possible as he did so. The Janitor watched and waited as he did this.

After a good hour of carving, Harry was done. Harry stood back and inspected his work. He nodded in satisfaction. He asked out of the side of his mouth, "Any reason not to do this now?" He paused and then corrected himself. "Sorry. I meant: Any suggestions for me?"

The Janitor just shrugged.

"Whew. Okay then. Here we go."

Harry gathered his magic as he prepared to charge the wards. When he was ready, he began chanting in Latin and directing energy to the stone that would hold the wards.

This kind of warding was far more taxing than the smaller, more temporary wards that he had cast the night before. Those would last probably fifty years. These? These were the type that lasted centuries – although Harry was unaware of that fact.

When he was done, he was quite drained. The Janitor moved to help him stay standing. Harry nodded in appreciation. He'd sleep like the dead tonight.

* * *

Father Ken was just reaching the final prayers for the Mass he was delivering to his flock. Even as he began the prayers, something … happened. He felt uplifted. Renewed.

He hadn't felt such a spiritual response to a Mass he delivered since the first one he gave after having completed the seminary. He was so caught up in the feeling he didn't notice that those attendees who were particularly sensitive were also feeling the change.

* * *

Lilly had put Harry up in one of the project houses she was supervising. It had electricity and plumbing and little else. Harry had insisted that it was enough.

She made very certain that she thanked him for his help. She had been just as surprised as Father Ken when four functional Confessionals had appeared in time for services. She made sure she took advantage of that. It had helped clarify what she had been feeling when dealing with her boyfriend.

After dropping Harry off (having stopped by for some fast food for him on the way) she drove over to the Girardi's house.

She felt nervous as she made her way to the door. When Helen answered, she couldn't really maintain the "wise" façade she put up when she was counseling. She wasn't here for that tonight.

Helen invited her in. Soon, she was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee with the Girardi parents and Kevin. Luke and Joan were studying in the other room for a final.

She addressed Helen. "Hey! Thanks for sending Harry over to help out. He did an unbelievably good job today."

Helen smiled. "Actually, you have Joan to thank for that. She's the one who mentioned it to him."

Lilly was surprised. "Really? Wow. Well, I'll have to thank her then. Harry helped get the graffiti covered up before services tonight. The walls still need paint – but we actually had Mass tonight."

Helen was surprised in turn, as was Will. Will was the one to comment. "That's kind of shocking. I can't imagine the damage I saw would be cleaned enough to hold services."

Lilly replied, "I know! We were going to try to cover those areas with some type of cloth. It would have been cheesy, but Father Ken really wanted to get things back to normal as fast as possible. Instead, Harry came up with a plan to get it primed in the right color so that the damaged areas weren't obvious. He even got four out of the eight Confessional booths up and running." She sighed in satisfaction. "It was a beautiful service."

Lilly was one of those that had sensed the change at the end.

Helen, Will, and Kevin all looked impressed. Lilly even jokingly said, "Hey, Kevin. You should totally do a piece on that guy."

Kevin chuckled. "Sorry. He's asked me to refrain. He doesn't want the fame. I made a promise."

Lilly was floored, and a little upset. "Wow. So the bombing of the church was news but the work of a good man isn't?"

Will interrupted before Kevin could reply. "Oh, I'm sure Kevin would be perfectly willing to talk about the wonderful work done by volunteers." Kevin nodded sharply at that. "But Harry's name has to be kept out of it."

Lilly was confused. "Why?"

The Girardis all looked at each other. "He's a good guy, none better. But he's earned his anonymity." Will had that "Chief of Police" thing going as he said this. She knew that she shouldn't push it.

The four chatted for a bit longer. Lilly was trying to delay the talk she was going to have to have – she had a number of insecurities.

Suddenly, Helen interjected, "Oh! By the way, Will, I ran into Ryan Hunter again today."

Will suddenly looked at her. Helen, who was married to him, saw the "show interest but I'm not saying anything else" face. She'd have to ask him about that when they were alone. Even Luke, who was their smartest child, would have missed it. "What did you talk about?"

"He got himself onto the school board! He offered to help me make sure that the ArtDepartment was properly funded next year – it was a travesty what happened this year."

Will sat back. "Hmm. He's a busy guy, I guess. Member of the Watchdog Committee, owner of the newspaper, got appointed to the School board. I'm glad to see prominent citizens get involved."

Kevin, who hadn't known all of those things, had a gut feeling: Something was very odd about his new boss. He'd have to look into it – carefully.

Will would have ignored it if he hadn't spoken to Joan the night before. Now, this news raised his hackles a bit. He'd have to investigate carefully – somewhat like the investigation which brought the city government down.

Helen and Lilly just knew they were missing something.

Lilly said, "Well. Enough about all of that. Me and Kevin are going out." She glanced at Kevin as she said, "We need to talk."

Kevin got a resigned look on his face. She murmured, "Not like that," even as she grabbed her scarf and purse. Suddenly, Kevin looked less anxious.

Will stood to see them out. "By the way, where IS Harry staying?"

Lilly was taken out of her thoughts by that. "Oh! He's in that project house that your daughter helped with when she did community service. It's not fully ready, but it's got electricity and plumbing. Harry insisted he didn't need much else."

Will considered that. "Who does he talk to if he has a problem there?"

Lilly paused. "I guess that'd be me." She shrugged. "He was pretty insistent that he'd be okay."

She really didn't have the energy to think about Harry Planter when she was psyching herself up to tell her boyfriend that she WASN'T going back to being a nun … and that they would likely reach the point that they'd be having … familial relations.

Lilly was far less confident in her sexuality than she implied to others.

Will walked them out even as Helen went to check on the kids – and pass on Lilly's thanks to Joan.


	5. A Royal Summons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things to explain how Harry came to be a Knight Commander in a universe he never had been in before. And a few other random things. And I apologize now if I got any points of Royal protocol wrong - I tried my best.

Joan sat in her room, contemplating the day she had at school. Earlier in the day she had a confrontation with Ryan. He basically came out and said he was going to go against her – and God. The above-mentioned deity's conversation later was not particularly enlightening.

Flashback

She was still distracted when she saw the group on the steps. As she walked up, she heard Grace ranting at the others. "**People! Are we going to study or are we going to revert back to Hormones?**"

"**Hormones ARE physics,**" Luke volunteered with some mild interest. "**At least the conversion of hormones can be construed that way. I mean, it's not an involved form …**"

Joan looked up and saw her ex-boyfriend walk up. "**I got the internship at the paper!**"

"**You mean the one that Ryan set up**?" She really didn't like the idea of any of herfriends being close to that man.

A rubbed the back of his head as he replied, "**Yeah. He's a real godsend**."

Joan paused and looked up earnestly. "**Maybe it's not such a good idea for you to do that**."

"**Why not?**" Adam asked with a curious smirk.

"**I don't like him, Adam,**" she whispered.

"**I thought you did.**" Adam didn't look as confident as he had.

"No! No. Actually, it's the opposite. He's just …" She saw Goth-boy God walk by.

"He's what?" Joan took a deep sigh. "He's what, Jane."

She just shook her head and moved her books off her lap. "**I'll be right back**." She stood up and walked over to Goth-boy God.

She moved through the doorway. "**Okay, God,**" she said as she walked next to him. "**What's the message here? Ryan is the adversary?**"

"**I told you before. He's a _connection_.**"

"**He's evil!**" she volunteered with certainty.

"**Connections are mostly neutral, Joan,**" God answered with a hint of admonishment. "**Ryan is human! And every human, by virtue of free will, has the choice of how to direct his actions. For good. OR Evil.**"

"**He's made it clear how he's directing his.**"

"**He saved Adam. He got him a job.**"

"**Trashed churches, and burned down a Synagogue.**"

God sighed. "**The universe is kinetic, Joan. Everyday you have to make a choice. Make it better or worse. Most people do a little bit of both.**" God paused a moment and added, "**And there are those who are powerful enough to counterbalance the scale. On either end.**"

Joan finally asked, "**So is this fancy talk for you expect me to save the world?**"

Gothboy God considered his words. "**Counterbalance is a better word.**"

"**You want me to fight back.**"

God stopped and Joan stopped in front of Him. "**I expect you to fulfill your true nature. Same as it ever was.**"

Joan was in her whining mood. "**I really don't think I'm up for this.**"

"**I think you are.**" He looked so certain. "**Or else you wouldn't have met him.**"

Joan gave an annoyed sigh. "**This is seriously going to cut into my normal high school routine.**"

He answered with an amused smile. "**You never liked High School that much.**"

"**If you want me to do this, I get it. But I can't do this alone. My own father** barely believes **me. My ex-boyfriend is siding with the devil. I have … no … weapons. Other people who fought back, you know the other Joan? She had an army. Okay? I don't have anything like that. Wha … Where's my army?**"

He looked over to the side through the archway where Grace was yelling at Friedman. The five sat there: Her geek brother, snarky friend Grace, pervert Friedman, shy Glynnis, and distracted ex-boyfriend Adam. She looked at where he was looking. She turned back.

"**So, basically, I'm on my own.**"

God gave her a smile. "**You have everything you need, Joan.**" He turned and walked away, giving that annoying little wave.

She watched after him, mind racing. Suddenly she saw Ryan walking past with the smirk. She looked at him with loathing.

End Flashback.

She tried to work out exactly what she was supposed to do. She finally dropped her face into her pillow and gave a loud, annoyed sound into it. She then sat up and tried to calm down.

At least Harry had been a bit of help. Without him, her Dad would have completely ignored her worries. Instead, he withheld his disdain – and even apologized for his treating her poorly in the past.

She scoffed. If she were him, she'd have been as bad or worse.

She really needed to get to sleep: She had two more days of studying before the finals were done and she really needed to be well rested.

* * *

Will called Detective Carlisle into his office.

"Hey, boss. You need something?" the Detective asked as he ate out of a bag of chips.

Will looked at his detective. "How are you still under 200 pounds if you're always eating?"

Carlisle shrugged and grinned sheepishly.

Will shook his head. "Whatever. Anyway, I need you to do some work checking on somebody but I need it done on the down low; I don't want it to get around that I'm checking."

Carlisle looked at him seriously. "Is this related to a case?"

Will paused. "I don't know …."

"Who do you want me to check out?"

Will wrote a name on a small yellow post-it and handed it over. Carlisle looked at it and then looked at Will with some confusion. "Isn't this guy on …"

"Yeah."

"And didn't he save that kid?"

"Yeah."

"So … why do you want him checked out?"

"Somebody told me they had a bad feeling about him. IT might be nothing. But it's kind of odd that he starts getting involved in things right around the time that we had two cases of crimes against … certain types of institution."

Carlisle looked at Will, his thoughts rapidly correlating everything that he knew right then about Hunter. There definitely was a lot missing. Finally Carlisle nodded. "I'll get on that."

"Thanks. And keep it quiet."

* * *

Lilly came into the church to continue working on the cleanup. Even though they had gotten up and running already, there were still things left to do.

Last night had been wonderful. She had told Kevin what Father Ken had said and told him that she wouldn't be going back to being a nun – she still had to much to learn about herself with him.

The rest of the night was pretty good. She and Kevin had made out … a lot. She was really feeling it with him.

As she walked in, she looked around. She spied Father Dan – one of the other priests. "Hello, Father. Did you see any of the volunteers? We had a crew that was supposed to be here this morning."

Father Dan nodded at her. "Sure, Lilly. They're in the back where the other booths are – trying to finish cleaning them up."

Lilly nodded her thanks and made her way back. She was surprised at what she found: Harry Planter, who had gotten the first four booths done, was already there. He was working with the crew – mostly different than the ones from yesterday – to finish the cleanup and repair of the remaining booths.

"Harry! I didn't expect to see you this early – you were here fairly late last night."

Harry turned and saw who was talking and then shrugged. "It's not like I had a plan of other things to do. I bussed over this morning." He pointed over to the side. "There's some coffee and biscuits over there."

Lilly's eyes lit up. She hadn't had time to get her morning cup of joe. And a biscuit sounded great. She went over and poured herself a cup. She then looked in the box – all there was were cookies.

She turned. "Biscuits?"

Harry nodded. "Sure. Right in that box."

Lilly looked down and back up. "Harry. Those are cookies."

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, forgot I was in the US for a moment. I just went in the bakery and said 'I want three dozen of those'." He turned to the other volunteers. "Why didn't you guys correct me when I said biscuit earlier?"

The lone woman on the crew laughed at him. "Because I've been to England and I knew what you meant. Besides, who's going to correct the man providing free snacks?"

Harry grinned. "Right, then." He turned back to Lilly. "There you go – their fault."

Lilly shook her head in amusement.

By mid-afternoon, the work was done. The remaining four booths were repaired and put back into place. Another set of volunteers had taken care of the painting. Except for the broken statuary (which was a whole other matter), the repairs to the church were basically done.

Harry went looking for the good father to let him know and so he moved back toward the man's office. Just like the day before, the man was in his office, looking over material to prepare for the next Mass. Harry knocked on the doorframe.

Father Ken looked up. "Harry! How are you today?"

"I'm good. We finished up the booths and the other guys are finishing the painting. So, I guess I'm done here."

Father Ken stood up and moved around the desk. He extended his hand. Harry took it. "Thank you, Harry, for the work you've done. Your suggestions and you efforts sped up the process enormously."

"No problem. Always happy to help out."

"So, what's next?" Father Ken asked as he leaned against the desk.

Harry shrugged. "Joan's friend's father runs that synagogue that had the fire. I might see if they need some help."

Father Ken smiled. Harry really was one of the good ones. "Well, that sounds excellent. Should you even need anything I or my parish can provide, you have only to ask."

"Thank you. I'll try to stop by before I move on."

The two farewelled each other and Harry made his way back to Lilly. "Lilly? Do you know where I could find one of the Girardis?"

Lilly looked at him curiously. "Which one would you prefer?"

Harry thought about it. "Joan. Will. Helen. Kevin. And if all else fails, the youngest one."

"Luke."

"Right. Luke. I only spoke like a sentence or two with him."

Lilly smiled. "Yeah. He's pretty focused on being a geek."

Harry smiled back. "Nothing wrong with that."

Lilly shrugged. "Well. I could … drop you by the police station. Chief Girardi should be there. Joan is probably still at school or work – I don't really know her that well."

Harry shrugged. "The police station works."

* * *

Will was at his desk when he saw Harry through the windows in his office. He went to his door and waved him over.

"Harry. What are you doing here?" he asked as he led the man inside of his office.

"Well, I finished helping out at the church. I thought I'd find out if the synagogue could use some help too. But since I didn't know where to go, I thought you might be a good place to start."

Will nodded. "Well, I can certainly help with that. But first, I have a message for you."

Harry was curious. "A message for me?"

"Yes. Remember how I had Carlisle check on you a couple of days ago?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I got a call from the British Embassy in DC. Out State Department reported the check and the Deputy Head of Mission called me to find out if I knew where you could be found. When I confirmed that I did, they sent me a fax to give to you."

Harry was really curious now. "Can I see it?"

Will handed the fax over. Harry read it. "Well, I guess I will be out of town for a short time."

Will was curious. "I didn't read it because it wasn't for me. What is it?"

Harry smiled ruefully. "Well, Baron Luce, the Lord Chamberlain of the Household, has passed on through the Embassy that Her Majesty wishes for me to report to her at my earliest convenience as regards a personal matter."

"And that means …"

"Get my arse to Buckingham Palace ASAP so as not to cause Her Majesty any alarm or inconvenience. Alarming Her Majesty is a punishable offense where I come from."

Will smile ruefully. "I guess you're going to be away for a few days."

Harry asked Will for his help in contacting Lilly and letting her know that he would be away for a few days and wouldn't need the room and in getting the message to Joan too.

"And tell your wife that someone else will have to play bodyguard for Joan while I'm gone."

Will asked incredulously, "Bodyguard?"

Harry smiled. "Your wife was a bit nervous about a strange man staying in the house. I explained to her that I was a widower and still hadn't gotten over that fully. And then I offered to act as the protective older brother when I was around – you know, keep the undesirables away for her. AKA All members of the male species that might be interested in your daughter or that might give her any trouble."

Will looked at Harry in shock and then laughed. He could just imagine a former cop making that offer.

Harry said goodbye and then made his way outside. He needed a likely spot … he spied a familiar figure on a bench across the way. He made his way over.

"Hello, Harry," the older woman said.

"Hello. I guess a suggestion is in order?" Harry smiled as he asked.

The woman looked up from the knitting she was doing and smiled. "You know, it takes some of the fun out when people are too agreeable."

Harry laughed. "Well, I've learned that arguing about it or railing against these things seems to be pretty pointless."

The old woman chuckled. "Well, just as long as you know that it's really your choice."

"Sure." Harry then asked, "How's your great-granddaughter, anyway?"

"Oh, she's fine. Went back home after making a few stops." The old woman paused. "She's actually why you got that message."

"Oh?" Harry asked curiously.

"Yes. She stopped by to visit a friend and mentioned that the person who was the subject of a certain Order was in the area and was available." The old woman looked over at him. "Meaning you, of course."

Harry sighed. "Well, I guess that's not a problem. I am Her Majasty's loyal subject." He looked at the old woman. "Your granddaughter is mischievous, by the way."

The old woman smiled as she pearled. "Yes. She was always one of my favorites. Watching her has always been a lot of fun." Harry chuckled at that. "Anyway, since it's known that you're here, it might not be a good idea to just show up there – there are a lot of records which might be checked. You're going to have to go without your special skills."

Harry groaned. "I guess there's a reason Aphrael left me so much cash."

The old woman just smiled. "Anyway, have fun on your trip. Enjoy yourself. Think of it as a vacation."

Harry smiled ruefully. "Yes. Well, I guess I have people to call."

The woman smiled as Harry moved off. She chuckled when he gave the backwards wave that annoyed Joan so much.

Harry made his way to a phone booth after getting some change. He looked at the fax and called the number.

"British Embassy. How can I help you?"

"Hello. I need to speak to the Deputy Head of Mission. This is Harry Planter, KCB, calling from Arcadia, Maryland."

"Yes, Sir. Just a moment."

Within an hour, the British Embassy would have a car at his location to pick him up. He would be taken to the Embassy to await the travel information for the plane that the Deputy Head's secretary was arranging for him. As it was a Royal decree, the Embassy would be footing the bill for everything except the plane. Harry's cash would stand that. He would then be picked up by a member of the Royal Household on the other side.

* * *

Harry stood without the Queen's private sitting room, nervously checking his collar. He had been whisked to the palace and the staff had seen to his wardrobe for his presentation.

Because this was informal and Her Majesty was so busy, he had been told that he would be attending tea with the Queen – the only time she had available that day. The clothes he was wearing certainly didn't feel informal, however.

Finally, the door opened and he was motioned inside. As he crossed the threshold, the man at the door cried out, "Harry Planter, Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath."

Harry moved to within fifteen feet and then stopped and bowed. "Your Majesty, I am come as was requested."

Very soon, Harry was sipping tea and eating small sandwiches with Her Royal Majesty.

The Queen was explaining. "Well, Mr. Planter, we were quite surprised when Our old friend visited us." Her Majesty paused and sipped her tea. She continued on a much more personal note.

"When I was a young girl and feeling quite lonely, I suddenly found myself playing with another girl about my own age. For quite a while there, we were the closest of companions. It took a while for me to find out exactly who and what she was – but it didn't matter because she was my friend."

Harry smiled. He could just imagine Flute playing games in the RoyalGardens, ignoring all protocol.

"So, imagine my surprise when, a few years ago, my friend arrived and asked me for a favor. She wanted to publish an Order of Chivalry and to keep the reasons vague. And then just two days ago, We get another visit to report that Harry Planter was in the United States but was available."

Her tone became a bit more formal again. "And since We were curious, We sent the order via Our Lord Chamberlain for you to come and visit. We would have your story."

The Queen looked at him expectantly. Harry sighed.

It took a good forty five minutes for Harry to give enough of his story for the Queen to be satisfied. When it was all said, Harry – despite it being tea – felt quite parched.

Her Majesty especially appreciated the little tidbits about Aphrael the few times he ran into her. Harry's Mmmr patronus nuzzled Her Majesty. She was very amused.

Harry was never quite so happy as when the Queen ordered the servants and guards present that everything seen was to be kept private, by Royal Order. He was a little surprised that there wasn't more of a reaction – but Royal staff had a long history of maintaining decorum under very trying circumstances.

When his explanation was done the Queen said, "Well, We are quite satisfied that Our Royal Warrant was well-deserved." She motioned to a liveried servant who stepped forward. She pointed to the documents he held. "As this is Our first opportunity, We now deliver Our Royal Warrant containing the Order of Chivalry. There are a few items We feel you should be aware of. Please review them at your earliest convenience."

"Yes, your Majesty." He understood she meant that as soon as tea was done, he should start looking things over.

"Our curiosity has been sated and We are satisfied. Go forth assured that We are pleased with your service."

Harry hastily stood and bowed as the Queen rose to go to her next appointment. He recognized a Royal dismissal.

Harry was ushered to a guest bedroom appropriate for the position she had given him. The Royal Household arranged for his return flight to the United States the next day.

He was a bit surprised to find that Her Majesty had seen to it that a modest sum of funds had been made available to him not through the Chancellery of the Exchequer but through an account set up and managed through the Keeper of the Privy Purse. Contained within the documents was the authorization to access the account through the Bank of England.

* * *

FUTURE CONSEQUENCES:

75 years after

The woman looked at the shelter she was checking into. The building was the refurbished old church that used to be here. Twenty years ago, the Archdiocese had decided that they needed a new building and the old one was abandoned.

She remembered when she was a kid that her parents had been part of the parishioners who had lobbied for the shelter to be put in its place. Although it wasn't a particularly good neighborhood, it wasn't a bad one either. For some reason, the crime rate in this area was much lower than in other areas of the city.

That she had a place to go to get away from her abusive husband was a gift from God. Father Michael had told her that no woman who had checked in had ever been attacked while they stayed at the old place.


	6. Back to Arcadia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have stolen a particular even from Mark Shaffer on Live Journal ( mshaffer .livejournal dot com slash 767 .html). On his Season Three fanfic, he had Joan and Price teaming up again at the party after school ended. I used that. Mark was one of the best fanfic authors to propose and lay out a virtual season three: I'm a fan. So I use the event as tribute to his story.

Joan was relieved. Finals were DONE. She had gotten mostly Bs, but had eked out an A- in AP Physics. It was very satisfying.

She was officially now officially done with her Junior year. Just like the year before, there was a party in the quad to celebrate the end of the school year.

She deliberately went to find Mr. Price: An action which shocked her friends. She finally spied him. "Mr. Price!"

Gavin Price, one of the most disliked faculty members at Arcadia High, turned in surprise at hearing the voice. "Ms. Girardi. How can I help you?"

"I seem to recall that we have unfinished business. Although we have had our issues, I submit that we are capable of putting aside our antipathy, apathy, and any other 'pathies' in a common goal: Mr. Hornsby has to go down."

Gavin Price quirked his lips as he observed one of his more … odd students. "Yes. Hornsby's gloating was particularly tiresome last year. I accede to your conditions."

All in all, the students had fun. Many of the Seniors had disappeared – they where done with High School – but there were a few around.

Luke and Grace had collaborated in the three-legged egg race with the idea of outdoing Joan and Price. Grace had actually proposed it. "Hey. Your sister has that look about her: She wants to win no matter what. We HAVE to enter: Price CANNOT be allowed bragging rights."

Luke demonstrated his intelligence by NOT pointing out that she had previously rejected such activities. Luke realized that Grace just wanted to act like a normal teenager for once.

When the race was done, Joan addressed her partner for the event. "Well, next year we have one more chance. At least we beat Mr. Hornsby as well as my brother and his girlfriend. I did NOT want to have to live with that all summer."

Gavin Price, bureaucrat extraordinaire and all around teenage-dream-killer, smiled in agreement. "It's a date. At least Mrs. Sims isn't one who'll hang this win over my head."

Unlike the year before, there were no trips to the hospital, no tragedies, no drama – Joan was almost shocked. As she made her way back home, she was unsurprised to find a cute boy in a corduroy jacket walking beside her suddenly.

As soon as she looked over to see who was walking next to her she groaned, "Oh, God."

"Yeah. That's me."

Joan looked at Cute-Boy God with irritation. "You always do that."

He shrugged. "Well, you're the one who tries to use my name in vain," he said with a small smile.

Joan chuckled sheepishly. "Yeah. Anyway, thanks for not getting on me during finals … I really didn't need the drama."

He shrugged. "You have to live your life, be true to yourself. Same as it ever was."

Joan sighed. "Same as it ever was." She looked nervously over. "I still don't know what to do about Ryan Hunter. I don't know how to oppose him. He's got a lot more pull than I do!"

"It's not about opposition. It's about fulfilling your true nature. Being a counterbalance," He replied.

"Yeah. THAT seems to be working," Joan said sarcastically as she sighed.

"Like I said before, you have everything you need. You could also get advice from Harry."

Joan thought about it. "Where's he been anyway? I haven't seen him around."

He chuckled. "He had to visit a friend back in England. He'll be back soon. He was going to come back yesterday, but it was suggested that he could use a break."

Joan looked at her ultimate Creator. "Why can't you give ME assignments like that? There've been a few times I could have used a break!"

He looked at Joan with a hint of admonishment. "You heard his story. He has spent literally years helping out here and there. He doesn't need to be reminded to fulfill his nature – he does it every day. Sometimes he forgets that he needs a bit of time for himself."

Joan was a little confused. "I don't understand."

He considered that. "Imagine a life where you're expected to instinctively know what you're supposed to do. All of these little talks we've had? Imagine if we never had them but you were expected to achieve the same results. And that's without time for going to school, or working a job, or having a relationship. That's kind of what Harry's life has been."

Joan was privately horrified. "Oh, God!"

"Yes?"

With an embarrassed look Joan said quietly, "Sorry. That vain thing again."

"I know. Omniscient here. Just having a bit of fun with you."

Joan chuckled. "Well, at least I know that God has a sense of humor – even if I'm the butt of it sometimes." She sighed. "Anyway, any hints?"

He looked over at her with that smile and said, "You'll know. Remember, it's about fulfilling your nature. Think about it." He turned off down a side-street, waving over his shoulder as he went.

Joan really hated that wave sometimes.

* * *

Harry thanked the driver as he was dropped off. The Embassy had arranged for a room in Arcadia for him, paid for by his modest stipend. They would guarantee the funds and get reimbursed from the account in the Bank of England.

It really helped to have Royal support.

He, of course, didn't know exactly how long he'd be in this world, but it didn't seem like it would be a quick-fix situation.

Finally, he got settled. He had also gotten a few changes of clothes. Cleaning charms didn't take the place of a good, thorough washing and fresh clothes. If there was one thing he didn't enjoy about his current … mission … it was that he very rarely arrived anywhere with more than the clothes on his back and his two wands. He was almost shocked to realize that his jacket had survived over a thousand jumps. His jeans, t-shirts, underwear, and trainers were changed here and there and he even replaced his glasses on occasion. But the jacket stayed the same.

Once he was ensconced in his room, he decided to make a list.

_Synagogue – volunteer, repair, ward_

_Other places of worship? – visit, ward_

_Help to find or expose perpetrator – talk to Girardis?_

_Temporary communications – pre-paid cell phone?_

_Figure out what G meant about a Dimensional Brother._

He considered the list and then sighed as he added one more item.

_?Take G-s advice – live a little?_

He really didn't know about the last item. He was so used to being the Traveler full time that he didn't know if he had it in himself to relax fully.

* * *

Will was frustrated. Just the night before there was some vandalism on a Baptist church in the city. Because it was only paint bombs and no significant damage, he couldn't justify applying as many resources as he would like other than pointing Carlisle toward seeing if there was any connection that could be made to their two open cases.

Suddenly his phone rang. "Chief of Detectives, Will Girardi." It was kind of annoying effectively being the Police Chief again without the official title. The Sherriff's Department hadn't made a decision yet. And the city was at least another year away from being reconstituted as its own political entity.

"Hello, Chief Girardi. This is Harry and I just got back into town."

"Harry! How was the trip? Did you see the Queen?" Will was suddenly much more cheerful.

"Yeah. I checked in with Her Majesty. She wanted to deliver some papers as well as hear an explanation on a few things. She was, thankfully, un-Alarmed. So I was spared the pokey."

Will laughed. "Well, that's good to hear. What do you need?"

"Well, I still have some time. So I was wondering to whom I would speak about helping out at that Synagogue."

Will sat back. "Well, Rabbi Polonski would be the obvious choice."

"Yeah – but I'd rather not just show up cold. He's only met me the one time and he was a bit distracted by the big fire going on."

Will looked at his watch. "Well, why don't you eat with my family tonight? I think Luke is planning on inviting Grace – the kids just finished the school year. We can ask her to help coordinate."

"Sounds good to me."

"I'm going to be leaving here soon – maybe 20 minutes. Where are you now?"

"Motel over on 4th, Arcadia Econo. Room 106. The Embassy helped set it up for me – took a while to convince them I didn't need a 4 or 5-star hotel. They couldn't understand that some people don't need all the trappings of privilege."

"Bureaucrats are the same the world over. Half an hour work for you?"

"Sure."

"See you then."

He hung up and then took his cell phone out. He'd have to warn Helen that they'd be having an extra guest.

* * *

Joan walked into the kitchen to get a glass of juice. Her mother was on the phone. "Okay then. With you? Alright. Dietary restrictions shouldn't matter – because Grace is coming I'm not making pork anything. Alright. See you then. Love you."

Joan, who had quietly retrieved her juice, asked, "What was that about?"

Helen turned. "Oh! Hello. That was your father. We're having another guest tonight."

"Who is it?" Joan asked before taking a sip.

"Remember Harry?" Joan got suddenly more interested as she nodded. "He came back from a short trip back to England and wanted our help to set him up with Grace's father. Anyway, you Dad invited him to dinner."

"Great!" Joan said cheerfully. "I wanted to talk to him about a few things."

Helen was curious. "What about? You're not planning on trying to date him right? I mean, he's at least … ten years older than you."

Joan made a face. "Eww! No! I just wanted to ask him about some things he's seen on his travels. I was so busy with exams when he was here that I didn't get a chance."

"Oh," Helen replied, feeling slightly embarrassed. She smiled. "Well, he'll be here tonight."

"Umm. Yeah. Thanks." Joan walked away, muttering about parents and assumptions and some other things Helen didn't hear.

Sometimes, having a teenage daughter could be amusing.

* * *

Harry sat with the Girardi parents, Joan, Luke, and Grace for dinner. Kevin was out with his girlfriend Lilly.

Helen then asked, "So, where were you anyway?"

Harry looked at Will as he finished chewing. "You didn't tell her?"

Will shook his head, his amusement easy to see. "It was your business."

Harry said. "Right." He turned his head back to Helen. "Just a quick trip to answer a Royal Summons. Had a few things to take care of."

Luke was curious. "Royal Summons?"

"Yeah. Her Majesty didn't have the chance to deliver the Warrant personally and she wanted to rectify that."

Grace was now curious. "Warrant? What, are you being charged with something?"

Harry laughed, as did Will. The rest were curious. "Nooo. I'm using Warrant as a general term. When I was named Knight Commander for the Order of the Bath, a document was created and published by her Majesty confirming that. I wasn't available to receive it from her hand though. She was quite keen on seeing it personally delivered – and questioning me for a good hour on details of what I've done and been doing."

Joan asked, "So are you technically 'Sir Harry'?"

"No." Harry drank some water. "If I had been named Knight Grand Cross, I would have been entitled as 'Sir.' But the secondary level of Commander doesn't give that. At least I wasn't referred to as Sir when I visited the Royal Household. Of course, I wasn't in uniform – nor was I wearing the insignia. Only the highest levels for each Order of Chivalry – Knight Grand Cross or Dame Grand Cross – give you a new styling."

Luke said, "Tell us about the visiting the Queen."

Harry entertained the family as he ate, giving an amusing rendition of his visit and of his Royal audience. He obviously didn't give full details but did give enough to keep them occupied.

When the dinner was done Will said to Grace, "Harry came back to Arcadia to volunteer at your father's synagogue."

Grace looked at Harry incredulously. "You left to go 3000 miles away to visit the Queen of England and came back to help clean up a synagogue? Are you doing penance or something?"

Will and Helen winced – they were worried that Harry would be offended. Luke was looking between Grace and Harry with wide eyes. Joan, for some reason, just calmly observed.

However, Harry wasn't offended in the least. He was smiling as he answered her.

"Yeah. Kind of weird, I know. But I wasn't doing anything more important and I offered when I heard about it. I keep my word."

Grace was staring at Harry as though he was a creature from another planet. She managed to drag Joan upstairs very soon after to grill her about Harry. He just seemed to be too good to be true. After, Luke and Grace spent some time together as Joan went to her room to continue working on some things.

Helen, Will, and Harry had a good time talking about random things. They didn't get enough adult conversation in their life and they quite enjoyed it.

At 9:00, Joan came back down with the other two teens.

Joan sighed as she accepted the keys from her mother. She wasn't overly fond of driving, but she had a license and she wanted to talk to Harry.

Harry wanted to clarify. "So, instead of Luke walking Grace home, Luke and Grace will be dropped of by Joan and then Luke will walk back alone." Luke and Grace nodded. "Joan will drive me back to where I am staying so as to allow time to ask me some questions."

Harry turned to the two parents. "I hereby ask your permission to keep your daughter for perhaps an extra hour. We will go to a public place, likely a coffee shop, and talk about a few things. I give my word that I will watch out for her safety. I will only stop watching when she is safely locked in the car ready to return after she drops me off." Harry looked at the clock. "She should return by 11:00. As she is done with school, this shouldn't be too inconvenient."

Helen and Will looked at each other. Helen saw that Will was okay with it – he was thoroughly convinced of Harry's trustworthiness. Helen was slightly hesitant – she was a mother – but having spent time with Harry, she wasn't truly worried. So she nodded as well.

* * *

Harry got in the front passenger seat. Joan was diligently checking the mirrors and the seat position to make certain she was completely comfortable – some accidents happened because people drove cars without setting the mirrors for their height and position.

Luke and Grace climbed in the back. Grace asked, "Why did you assume that I wanted to sit back here? Maybe I wanted to sit in front."

Harry glanced back and with a grin said, "Your boyfriend is in the backseat. I assumed. Besides," Here he paused and looked directly at her, "Shotgun!"

Joan smirked, Luke chuckled, and Grace just gave him a snarky look. "I spent years with a professor who could snarl much more effectively. You don't scare me, missy."

He saw Helen and Will watching them from the door. He rolled down the window and called out, "Can I ask a question?"

Helen, who was the most nervous, stepped closer to the end of the porch and replied, "Sure."

"Does she drive much?" Harry pointed his thumb toward Joan, who was finally settled in with her hands on the wheel.

"Not really. But she's pretty good."

Harry glance back and then said with a grin, "They way she's checking things puts me in mind of a rookie. You happen to have a crash helmet I could borrow?"

The Girardis heard Joan's loud, "Whatever!"

Harry just grinned at the parents as Joan pulled back and out of the driveway.

* * *

Will looked at his wife. "I think he was just going for a laugh."

Helen smiled and said, "I know."

Will looked at the car driving away and back at his wife. "We have an hour and a half with no kids."

Helen looked back at Will with a smile he recognized quite well. Will promptly took his mind off of kids and cars and strange British visitors.

* * *

Joan and Harry had dropped off the couple at Grace's house. She told Harry she would give her father his information and where he was staying.

They then continued on. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Harry asked.

Joan sighed heavily, even as she watched the road. "Our mutual friend suggested that you would be a good sounding board."

"Okay. What's the problem?"

Joan stopped at the side of the road and threw the car into park. "I don't … know … what I am supposed to do!"

Harry sighed. "You still haven't told me anything."

Joan grabbed the wheel and took a deep breath. "Okay. Ryan Hunter. He's the guy behind the attacks against churches and the synagogue. I'm supposed to stop him."

Harry was curious. "Who said you were supposed to stop him?"

"God!"

Harry paused. "That doesn't sound like the same guy who's been talking to me since I got into this universe. I think you need to start at the beginning."

Joan looked around. "Can we go over to that park?"

Harry shook his head. "Nuh-uh. I promised your father and mother a public place. We need to find a public place."

Joan was frustrated. "But people who hear us will think we're crazy!"

Harry grinned. "You DO remember that I have magic, right?"

* * *

Finally, the two found a 24-hour diner near to Harry's motel. The two sat down and the waitress came over. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

Joan looked up and then over at Harry. "I'm buying. Get whatever you want."

Joan looked back up. "Lemonade."

Harry looked up. "You wouldn't happen to have tea would you? Hot tea?"

The waitress made a note. "Sure, Honey. Would you like the tea?"

"Absolutely."

Soon the drinks arrived. Harry took out a five and handed it to the waitress. "That's all we'll need. Keep the change." She nodded and thanked him.

Harry, who was against the wall and could see the whole diner saw that no one was looking. He discretely drew his Holly wand and cast a few charms.

"Okay. The waitress will see us if we try, but won't be too interested. Everyone else will kind of ignore us totally."

Joan looked around. When another customer glanced over, she waved her hands wildly. The man just looked back to his plate. "Heh. Useful."

Harry smiled. Showing magic to someone who wasn't used to it was always fun. "Okay. So. Tell me the whole story."

Over the next thirty minutes, Joan gave a fairly detailed description of Ryan Hunter and a bit of the back story. It took that long because Joan tended to leave things out and Harry had to work to get her to give details.

They were unexpectedly interrupted when a pretty girl sat down at the adjoining table and looked at them. Joan tried to ignore her when the girl said, "Hi, Joan!"

Harry looked at Joan, who looked nervous, and then looked over. "Hello. Who are you?"

Joan looked at Harry in shock. "You can … see her?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure."

The girl was trying to hold her laughter – and not being that successful. "Yeah. Harry's a particularly interesting story on this side of things." She turned toward Harry. "Hi. I'm Joan's dead friend Judith."

"I'm Harry Potter, Joan's current guidance counselor and occasionally Fate's whipping boy – although that seems to be true less and less."

Judith laughed. "It's amazing to meet _Harry Potter_. I mean, in this world, you're a _story_."

Harry chuckled. "I know. I've read the books – they're pretty consistent from world to world. Not always accurate, but a much cleaner result than I experienced." Judith just smiled at the two and shrugged. "Anyway, you have anything that you can add to Joan's story?"

"I've been trying to explain to her. She's pretty close, but kind of fights it."

Another voice spoke from the other side and the two looked over. "I tried to explain that there was a disturbance in her electro-magnetic field."

Joan said, "And this is my other dead friend, Rocky. I once watched him for a few days so his mom could go to night school. "

The boy was standing there in a white suit. Harry said, "Kind of a cliché look: 'Official representative of the Ghost Realm'."

Rocky just shrugged and smiled.

"Anyway. I assume you two are visiting because you have some input? And the fact that I am a 'Master of Death' helps?"

Judith replied, "Well, yeah. With no magic in this universe, we kind of occupy the part of the electro-magnetic spectrum not in use by people."

Harry tsked at her. "No magic? There's magic everywhere. It so happens that there doesn't seem to be people with a magical core, but that doesn't negate the fact that magic is a part of life. Without it, there would BE no life."

Judith scoffed. "Whatever. I didn't pay too much attention to Physics when I was alive. The stuff you run into on my side is clearer, but what you're talking about is part of the really advanced, secret stuff that takes years to get to. I haven't been dead that long. The 'electro-magnetic spectrum' explanation is good enough for me."

Harry glanced over at Rocky. Rocky shrugged. "I actually read that stuff. I'm faster than most."

Harry chuckled ruefully. "You remind me of Hermione."

Rocky smiled. "Thank you. One of the versions of her is one of my tutors."

Harry smiled sadly. "Tell her I said hello."

Joan interrupted, horrified. "There's _studying_ when you're dead? Don't we get to, you know, REST when we get to the other side?"

Judith looked at Joan apologetically. "Sorry. But it's not too bad. Much better than high school. Much less pressure. And it doesn't take up too much of your time."

Joan groaned. "Great. Just when I thought there was an end in sight."

Judith gave a playful admonishment. "You've got loads of time before you have to worry about it! Suck it up!"

Joan gave her a venomous look.

Harry called, "Aaaanyway … to get back on track: You two have something to add?"

The two dead people looked at each other and then back at Harry. "She's forgetting what happens when Ryan and God are in the same area, how the environment reacts."

Harry looked at Joan curiously. "Tell me about those times specifically."

Joan described the two instances where Ryan and God talked to her and were in the same area. There was something that Harry noticed.

"Wait. So, when Ryan is talking to you, God doesn't talk to you?"

"Umm. No. Now that you point it out."

Harry thought for a moment. "And these two are never around after you see him either?"

"No." Joan wondered where he was going with this.

"Wow. So he carried a kind of … disruptive aura around with him you would say?"

"Aura? What's an aura?"

Harry sighed. He forgot he was speaking to a non-magical. "Every living thing has field around it, a kind of … bubble you could say. Their part of the electro-magnetic spectrum. This bubble is a person's aura. Magic makes it visible at times, but every living thing has this field. It's kind of interesting that Ryan's field seems to interfere with your field. You have a natural affinity toward the … non-corporeal side of things. And his aura interferes with that."

Joan was confused. "Non-corporal?"

Harry shook his head. "Corp-or-eal. Corporeal means having a physical presence or a physical substance. Ghosts appear corporeal but they have no actual physical form – or such a small one that their effect on the world is minimal. There's obviously something about this guy that doesn't quite fit. We just have to figure out what it is."

Joan sighed. "So what do I do?"

Harry thought about it. "Get a journal. A diary of some kind. Write down everything you know. Exactly what you see. What you feel. Exactly what happens. Exactly what's said. The order it happens in. When you think you have it all, I'll take a look."

Joan was worried. "If someone sees that, I'll get sent back to crazy camp. And without Judith I wouldn't survive crazy camp!"

Harry said, "Well buy one. I'll cast a few charms to keep it safe. That okay?"

"Suuuure."

Harry looked up at the clock. "Well, I have a bed to go to and so do you. I'll get in touch with you in the next couple of days. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Now: My motel is over there. I'm going to walk you to your car and you're going to lock the doors and drive. I promised Helen and Will that I'd keep an eye out and that's what I'm doing to do."

The two spirits cheerfully said goodbye. Rocky disappeared into a window and Judith walked through a wall.

"You have interesting ghost friends."


	7. Cleanup and Another Attack

It was 10:00 in the morning and Harry was bored. He had already gone out for breakfast and walked around for a bit. He got back to his motel and noticed there was a note on the door: _Message in the office_.

He went to the office and saw that he had received a call from Rabbi Polanski. He got went to the payphone and called the number.

"Polanski Residence."

"Hello, is this Rabbi Polanski?"

"This is he."

"This is Harry Planter. I got your message."

"Ah. Good. My daughter says that you wished to help at the synagogue while you are in town. The scene was finally released by the police department and now we are waiting for an inspection to make certain that the remaining shell is safe before we begin to try to move forward. I will have a better idea then as to what exactly we need."

"When will that be?"

"Mr. Girardi graciously helped to expedite it. The county will inspect tomorrow and then I have a survey team that will be ready to begin work the day after to see what needs to be done."

"Wow. I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Luckily, one of the members of our community has a cousin who will do the initial work at cost."

"Well, it's good to have a community. Can I be there tomorrow when the inspection happens? I'd like to get an idea."

"Sure. It's scheduled for 11:00 in the morning. You know where it is?"

"Yeah. I was there with Joan and her mum the night of the fire. I carried your scroll so the Firefighter could get back to work."

There was a pause. "Ah, yes! I remember you. My thanks for your help that night."

"No problem."

Harry finished the conversation and hung up. He decided he'd walk around and find other institutions. He could have been more scientific about it, but he wasn't on a schedule.

He did cast notice-me-now charms on himself – he really didn't want to attract attention. He found several protestant churches that were not open – it wasn't one of the days they provided services. He cast at several wards on the buildings. It wasn't as good as warding with a ward stone, but they would hold for at least a year the way he did them.

When he found churches that were open or that had people, he made an effort to actually go inside and try to locate stone portions of the buildings that were set into the ground – these would allow wards that would last longer.

As he did this, Harry reflected that Americans seemed to like their churches – there were a lot of them.

By the mid-evening, he was tired. He ate at the diner again and made his way back to his room. He wanted to take a nap before completing the step he had envisioned after talking to Rabbi Polanski.

* * *

It was 4:00 in the morning. Once again, he was under notice-me-not charms – he didn't want to alarm the neighborhood. They already had vandalism occur and probably didn't need to see a strange man.

He carefully made his way into the shell of the building. He cast a lumos to look.

The stone was blackened and the walls were half covered. The plaster had been cracked by the heat and large sections had fallen off showing the layer below. The fire had created a lot of damage – and the water used to put the fire out created a bit of a mess.

It would be a task of Herculean proportions to rebuild – but it wasn't impossible.

The first thing that Harry did was look over the walls and cast a few diagnostic charms. He found that the heat had created cracks in certain parts of the shell – the stone had cracked under the weight it held. THAT wouldn't pass an inspection.

So, Harry first cast reparo charms. He was able to repair quite a number of small incursions this way. There were some larger cracks which didn't seem to want to be repaired this way.

He cast a summoning charm to retrieve material from the piles littered about. He stuffed this into the larger cracks – and then cast Duro charms. Where there were inconsistencies in color, he cast color changing charms to make them match the surrounding stone. Because these charms had to effectively last for years, he put a lot of power into them.

He carefully inspected and could not find the seams. He cast the diagnostic charms again, and the stone showed no damage. He grinned in satisfaction.

He cast a spell. It was close to 5:30. He cast more security spells – he didn't want to be disturbed by neighbors or curious passersby. He'd remove them as soon as he was done.

He continued this way until he had repaired the shell as much as he could. To be certain there were places where there were missing blocks, but for the most part the shell looked to be completely intact.

He made his way to the exposed foundation. It appeared to be solid stone in some parts and poured concrete in others. It was obvious that there had been another structure already in place which was added onto, or at least the foundation was.

Harry scribed runes very similar to what he had put in the church and then charmed them. This time, he DID fall down in the end: The Custodian wasn't here to catch him. He had been casting for over three hours and he was feeling it.

He took a few long breaths and got his strength back.

Be looked around. The sun had come up and was showing through holes through the roof that were created by the fire. It was obvious that some work had been done – the walls were too clean.

Harry carefully pulverized some ash and then banished it toward the walls. He applied a light sticking charm – it would last a few hours but if someone physically tried to remove ash it would come off.

When the walls looked sufficiently undisturbed, he took one more careful look. Satisfied, he removed the security charms – except the notice-me-not charm he had on himself – and then made his way out.

* * *

It was close to 11:00 when Harry reappeared at the burned-out building. The rabbi was there as was a county truck. The man from the county was getting a few items out to help him. Another man was carefully opening the place up to make sure it was safe before they began.

The man with the equipment finally walked over. "Due to safety concerns, you can't come in until we certify it as safe. We can give you an idea of what direction it will go when we're done. Give us about an hour."

The rabbi nodded. After the man walked away Rabbi Polonski turned to Harry. "I guess we'll be standing around for a while. I really expected there to be more for me to do."

Harry shrugged. "Governments the world over have their own way of doing things. I can stand around and wait if you have anything that is immediately urgent. I'm really not doing anything right now." He reached out his hand. "Harry Planter, as I mentioned over the phone."

The Rabbi took his hand. "Saul Polonski." He paused and then asked. "What's your story, anyway?"

The two moved to a bench that was near the building but wasn't in the taped off zone. "I'm just a former cop who had a few too many bad experiences. So, I started Traveling around and helping out here and there. You know, increase the good? I try to be something of like a trouble-shooter. Help people with unsolvable problems so they can get on with their lives."

Saul thought about that for a moment. "Interesting." He paused for a moment. "So helping out with the synagogue is a chance to do good. Can I ask a personal question?"

"Sure."

"What faith do you follow?"

Harry smiled. "Father Ken asked me that too when I was helping to clean up his church. I don't follow a particular faith. I know God is there – I just think that everyone has their own path to relate to him. The little jobs I do are my path."

Rabbi Polonsky considered that. "It's certainly not a bad path. I personally find my own path in my study and the teaching of the Torah. The questions, the struggle, the mystery: Understanding where my people come from and what God has created. These are the things that allow me to relate to God."

Harry volunteered, "Most clerics find their purpose in teaching."

Saul smiled. "Cleric. A good term. It comes from the Greek for 'that which is assigned.' A Rabbi – or a priest or an Imam – could be said to be assigned the task of studying God and passing their acquired understanding to those that they teach."

Harry shrugged. "That sounds like the most idealized version of the job title."

Saul continued, "My training cries out that I should be trying to guide you into proper study. But my heart says that your path is correct for you. But let me ask: Wouldn't it be clearer if you studied the paths of others? How they found their connection to God?"

For the next fifty minutes, the two discussed religion and philosophy extensively. Rabbi Polonsky felt that it was the most enlightening hour he had spent in the understanding of God since he had left the rabbinical seminary. Harry gained a greater understanding of the religious mind.

Finally, the two inspectors joined them. Rabbi Polonsky stood to hear the verdict. Harry joined him.

"Well, Rabbi, I have to say your luck runs good and bad. The interior is completely destroyed. The whole inner structure will have to be rebuilt. But the shell is shockingly sound. For some reason, there is almost no structural loss. You'll have to have proper bracing put up to hold the walls apart when the main joists are replaced, but you won't need to tear it down before it's rebuilt."

There were a few papers that had to be signed and delivered. But all in all, it was a good result.

Harry and Saul went to look inside. Harry pointed out, "Well, the first step will be cleaning up the detrius – getting all the remnants taken out and the walls cleaned."

The Rabbi considered that. "I will have to talk to Jonah's cousin."

Harry was curious. "Have you gotten any donations yet to help rebuild?"

Saul considered the man asking and decided it wouldn't hurt to be straightforward. "Yes. We have far to go, but many of the community have pledged support or have already provided funds."

Harry led Saul around the side to the back. "Well, the first step will be to get one of those premade sheds from a DIU store. A sturdy one that can be locked. We can put that back here. That's where you'll have to keep the tools. And then order a skip or two so that people will have a place to put the material."

"A skip?"

"Yeah. One of those metal boxes that they use on construction sites to carry off refuse?"

"Ah! A dumpster!"

Harry chuckled. "Yeah. A dumpster."

Saul considered that. "I will start there."

Harry left Saul to do his thing.

* * *

Not being on a predetermined schedule and not being in a universe based on his own, not wanting to intrude too heavily into the lives of teenagers, and not having easy transportation around, Harry didn't know what to do with himself.

He made his way to the 24-hour diner near his motel. He sat down. The waitress came over. "Tea please."

The older woman said, "Certainly, Sugar." She handed over a menu and went to bring his drink. He glanced through it.

The waitress set his tea down, and then a miniature carafe. "And a little bit of milk, right Harry?"

Harry was surprised and looked up. "Yes. Thanks. How are you?"

The woman smiled in amusement. "I abide. How are you?"

Harry blushed a little bit. "Sorry. You just tend to catch me off guard."

The woman hadn't lost Her smile. "But it's nice to be asked from time to time. You look pensive today."

Harry sighed and then sipped his tea. "I'm not used to waiting around much. I do my thing and then get sent on. In my world, no one is taken aback when things happen fast – force of personality is greatly respected." He smiled bitterly. "A part of the sheep mentality. Here though … here my attempts at forcing action would appear intrusive and rude. And although I'm not opposed to being perceived as rude if necessary, it would reflect badly on those who have championed my participation."

He sighed again. "There are no quick fixes. It's not as if I can magic up tools and materials. So, what do I do when I'm NOT involved?"

"Well, what do you WANT to do?"

He considered that. "What I want to do is to get the people necessary together and start work. The building's current state is a wound – and it's a wound that can be healed if attention is placed on it." He shrugged. "I just want to DO something."

"Well. Then DO something. The kids are out of school. I'm certain that their time can't be taken completely by whatever they're doing. Grace is rebellious – but she sees how the fire has distracted the synagogue and her father. Don't be so afraid of running roughshod that you don't act. Maybe they could use that little push."

* * *

It was 1:00 on Sunday. The big cleanup was scheduled to start. Harry was with Joan and her friends, waiting for Grace to give them directions.

Grace looked at Harry. "I don't now why I let you talk me into being the team leader. It's not like I know what I'm doing."

Harry just smirked. "You father's synagogue, your family is running things. Your father is over there directing his volunteers – I'm certain he's not a contractor either."

Grace looked at all of the faces looking at her. "Fine." She looked around and then smirked. "Friedman. You and Figlioa are in charge of refreshments. Make sure that everyone is hydrated – we don't need people passing out on us. Girardi mine (talking to her boyfriend), you can help separate the scrap. Other Girardi and I will scoop. Rove and Planter will transport." She turned toward Harry. "Good enough?"

Harry shrugged. "You may want to switch people out when they get tired. Have the scoopers change over to the refreshment detail for example."

Grace considered it. "Good idea." She looked around. "Okay, Hop to!"

The girls made their way inside, followed by Adam and Harry. They immediately moved to the large pile at the front of the synagogue.

The day before, when the surveyor and the architect had arrived to begin making plans, they – as well as Rabbi Polinksi – were surprised to find that somehow all of the damaged plaster and lathe had been removed from the walls and put in a big pile next to the door. Instead of hours and hours of laborious work to take it down, now it was a matter of scooping it up and taking it out.

Saul had commented on it to Harry, looking at him with a peculiar expression, but Harry just shrugged and expressed his cheer at hearing about it. Saul would still look at Harry oddly from time to time.

Harry and Adam were soon wheeling their first loads while Joan and Grace rested. Harry had privately been impressed. By separating out the two functions – loading and unloading – Grace had allowed for each person to rest between jobs rather than trying to continuously work. It would allow them to work longer.

Harry and Adam had to wait for a large piece of debris to be moved through the door. Harry had nodded to one of the men carrying it – he recognized him as one of the people who had helped rebuild the booths at the church.

Apparently Harry's request of Father Ken to solicit volunteers after Sunday services had borne fruit.

Luke, along with another man, was directing people toward different skips. One was for wood, a second for metals, a third for all other debris. Luke then helped separate out their wheelbarrows so that they could just dump the remainder in the third skip.

While Joan and Grace were next filling their barrows, Harry looked at what was happening. The off-duty police officers Will had promised were helping to erect scaffolding that would be used to install the bracing needed before the floor could be fully taken out and replaced. For the moment, the floors were covered by sheets of wood so that no one fell into any holes.

Helen was working with a group of people who were cleaning the walls with hoses, long brushes, and other equipment. The water was being directed out a hole in the back wall into the back via a temporary plastic trough along the wall.

He had also seen Kevin wheeling around and talking to people, planning on a story for the newspaper.

Harry grinned. His input the day before had been heeded well. Most of the initial cleanup could be finished in a day at this rate.

* * *

A man parked his car down the block, watching the activities taking place. Inside he was burning in anger. Instead of being disillusioned with God as he had planned, the people were working hard to repair the building. He had wanted to drive a bit closer to get a better look – but for some inexplicable reason felt too uncomfortable to do that.

He would have to take more steps.

As he turned his car around, he thought he caught the image of a familiar face in the rearview mirror – but the man had turned back toward the building too fast. Besides – it had been years and he didn't expect that person to be helping out with such activities.

* * *

Will sat at his desk the next morning. The weekend had been great. His family was healthy and the work they did for the synagogue was satisfying.

He may not believe in God personally, but the satisfaction he got from helping people was enormous.

Suddenly, Carlisle walked into his office. "Boss. There's been another attack." Will looked at Carlisle in shock. "Mosque on 12th was vandalized last night. I'm on my way now."

Will had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

A/N: The rest of this chapter isn't so light and cheerful. There is a bit of the darker side of man described below. For any followers of Islam – I apologize now if this is offensive. My attempts were to show the heinousness of the vandalism. Some things are beyond the pale and every culture is different.

* * *

He had been right. This was horrible.

Someone had taken different animals and slaughtered them at the entrance of the building. After they had bled out, someone had walked through the blood and across the mats that were set up around the room.

After fouling the mats with the blood of animals, the person had apparently walked BACK into the blood and then over to arch that was set up in near one side. The person had then used their blood-stained boots or shoes to kick it over.

He watched as his forensics people tried to methodically catalogue the scene – but it would take hours.

He walked back outside where Carlisle was trying to speak to a very obviously upset man. Carlisle quietly waited as the man tried to compose himself.

When Will arrived Carlisle quietly said, "The Imam for the mosque here found it this way this morning. Name is Abdul Raoof Raheem. Apparantly, the animal blood and the kicking made it much worse."

Before Will could respond the man interjected, "I took my name Abdul Raoof as an act of my service to Allah: Servant of the Most Compassionate. If I had known that this would be in my future I would have taken Ali Sacha! Noble Avenger! The House of Allah has been desecrated!"

Will tried to calm the man down. "I'm sorry for your loss – and for the insult. This is the latest in a string of vandalisms against houses of worship. A Catholic church was vandalized with all of the sanctified statuary destroyed and a Jewish synagogue was burned down. I believe that this is not an attack because you're Muslim. It's an attack because you ARE a servant of God. What does Islam mean?"

"It is Peace through the Surrender to the Will of Allah." He sighed. "I will pray for guidance and hope that through prayer that Allah may help me to find again my compassion."

He turned and gave a formal bow of thanks to Will. "I thank you for reminding me of my calling. I will pray help for you to bring to justice the vile man or men who committed this desecration. I will also pray for the People of the Book who have also been harmed by this man that they feel Allah's merciful light in these trying times." He stood and said, "I have work to do to inform and calm those who pray here."

Will turned to Carlisle. "We have to get whoever did this. This is a powder-keg waiting to erupt."

* * *

Ryan Hunter smirked as he watched his outfit from the night before burn. The "stolen" car from the night before had already been put where it would be easy to find – but he was certain to leave no physical evidence in it.

He would punish those who whispered false promises to gullible people. God may have created the world – but no one had to be a slave to such a callous planner.


	8. Maarek Ilumian: Fury of the Light

Harry was eating dinner with the Girardis. After the cleanup of the day before, and having done a bit of heavy casting over the previous days, he had mostly rested for the day. The invitation to dinner had been welcome, as he really didn't know many people in the town.

Besides, he still needed to look over the notes he had asked Joan to make.

Conversation was fairly comfortable, but Harry noted that Will seemed distracted. Finally he asked, "What's been bothering you?"

Will, who hadn't been concentrating at all, suddenly noticed that everyone was looking at him. Finally he sighed and said, "There was another attack last night. A mosque was vandalized."

Joan became very interested. "What happened?"

Will really didn't want to describe what he had seen. "Someone killed a few animals and used the remains to desecrate it. They also damaged a free-standing arch which has some religious significance. It was an ugly scene."

Joan gave her father a pointed look. He knew what she meant: She still believed it was Ryan Hunter. The problem: There was no evidence.

Meanwhile, Harry still had questions. "So, it's a matter of cleanup and repair now?"

Will shrugged. "I don't know if there are any religious hindrances. You know, consecration rules or some such. But as bad as it was, it probably isn't the worst that could be done. At least it wasn't a fire this time."

Harry nodded. "I guess I can see if they want some help."

Will looked at him curiously. "You seem to be doing a lot of that in town. Isn't there somewhere you're supposed to be?"

Harry smiled and shrugged. "Not really. Learning to live again after tragedy is my current journey. Help out here and there. Who knows? One of my friends in school said I had a 'Saving People' thing. I was kind of infamous for it, really."

Will chuckled. "I can understand that – I have my own thing."

When dinner was done Harry asked Joan, "Did you do as I suggested?"

Helen, who was cleaning up, was curious. "Something I should know about?"

Harry shook his head. "The other night when we talked she had a couple of personal things – non-family, intellectual issues she didn't feel comfortable talking to her normal social circle about. Being as I won't be around for more than a few weeks at most – she felt comfortable asking me. Anonymity and all that."

Helen looked at her daughter and then back at Harry. It just seemed weird. But Harry had been good for both their family and Arcadia – so she resolved to ignore it.

Joan shrugged at her mother in embarrassment. "Yeah. I'm going to go get the book. Since I'm sure Mom and Dad don't want me entertaining strange men in my room," she smirked even as her mother gave her an annoyed look, "I'll bring it back down and we can talk … in the garage. Enough privacy without being … weird."

Harry shrugged.

Joan rushed upstairs and brought back a book in a bag. Helen noticed the book was hardback and green. It looked to be a ledger – but she wasn't sure.

The two went into the garage. Helen was tempted to spy through the glass, but suddenly realized that it was more trouble than it was worth.

Harry finished surreptitiously finished casting a few charms. "Mild repelling and notice-me-not. They know we're here but won't be too interested. So, you got the book? Have you written anything down yet?"

Joan shook her head. "I didn't want to until I knew it was safe."

Harry sighed and looked at her for a moment before holding his hand out. She pulled the book out and handed it to him. He looked through it and nodded. "Excellent. You'll have to give me a minute – I have to remember all the charms."

He concentrated on remembering the ever-lasting book charm as well as the privacy charms needed. The privacy charms were not that hard because he had used them a few times recently. The ever-lasting book charm was one he had only used twice: For Hermione's birthday after the war (and before the massacre) and for a Grimoire for another Hermione in another universe (a gift). He chuckled.

Joan looked at him curiously. "Sorry. You remember our conversation where your young friend mentioned his tutor that I knew?" Joan nodded. "The only times I've used on of these charms were for her … she was kind of like my sister – at least the original."

Joan smiled but impatiently. She really wanted this done.

"Alright. I remember the wand movements." He then cast the spell. When he was done, he leaned against the incomplete boat.

"It's done?"

"Well … not quite. Do you have a pin or a needle?" Harry asked innocently.

Joan shrugged. "Sure." She went back through her house to her room and brought back a needle used for some project she had done for God once. "How's this?"

"Clean it with alcohol."

Joan gave him a look and then went back and did so. Finally she was back.

"Okay. Take it and open the cover." She did. "Now … prick your thumb with the needle and put a drop of blood on that square."

"Ewwww!" She gave Harry a look. "Why do I need to give blood?"

"Blood is the basis of a number of security charms where I come from. Only you, those you allow, and your children should be able to open the book when we're done."

Joan scrunched her eyes. She turned her head as she poked herself. Harry shook his head. This girl was almost a cliché female teenager at times.

"Okay, what now?" There was a drop of blood on her thumb.

"Just smear it against the little box there."

She did. She was fascinated when the blood disappeared. "What now?"

"Write something." Joan searched through the garage and wrote her name on the first page. She then wrote a short paragraph saying what the book was.

"Okay?"

"Go and ask your brother to read it. See what he says. I'm going to ask your father a couple of questions."

Joan shrugged and then did so, even as Harry removed the security charms. He went and asked more about the mosque. When Joan came back down, she had a surprised look on her face.

When Harry led Joan outside, Joan had to control herself. "He could only see some comments about my ex-boyfriend. How does that work?"

Harry replied, just as quietly, "He'll find what he expects to find, except what's there. Only with your permission can someone open it and read what's really there. I imagine he just decided it was a waste of his time?"

Joan nodded. "Part of the security. Uninteresting book, about something he has no interest in. You're safe now."

"Cool!" Joan replied, looking at the book.

"Now, flip through it."

Joan did. She noticed that she couldn't to the end – unless she deliberately pulled the last page. "Very cool!"

"Yeah. So write what I asked. You can use it as a journal of your life. You might need to remember details in the future."

Joan resolved to do that now.

Harry made his way back inside. "I'm going to make my own way back the motel," he told Helen and Will.

The two adults thanked him for coming. Kevin, who had rolled out his bedroom, asked, "You sure you don't want a ride? Lilly's picking me up for a movie and I'm sure we can drop you off."

"Nah. I'm good."

Kevin shrugged. He was moving to the bathroom to finish cleaning up – he wanted to look good for his date.

Harry went outside and moved off of the porch. He paused. Kevin's car was down – it needed a new starter, according to Will. They had been working on it before dinner and the hood was still up.

Harry went over and looked at the car. He glanced to the house and then cast a few charms discretely – better not be to be seen.

He then centered himself and cast a heavy _reparo_ on the car. Luckily, the battery was disconnected – otherwise he might have fried it. And he knew that a battery didn't get damaged with magic if it wasn't hooked up to anything. Earlier, Harry had also glanced through the repair manual Kevin had bought for the car: For the spell to fully work, he really needed to know how everything was supposed to look like when fixed and the idealized drawings were sufficient.

He mused that it was good he had put up some privacy charms. There were definite noises coming from the car as small items slightly pushed out of place adjusted themselves. Small pieces of metal at the bottom of the oil pan from wear and tear moved back through the engine and refused themselves back to their original positions. Slight dings on the doors and other places straightened themselves out.

There were still imperfections in the paint job, but now they appeared to be just placed the paint had worn off instead of the rust that had been apparent before.

All in all, the car looked to be a very-well cared for instead of extremely used.

Harry took the charms down and continued on his way. He found a semi-private spot and then apparated to his motel room.

The girl just home from college had seen the attractive man walk past the trees. She kept an eye out because – hey, she was a woman and she liked to look. And he had been a very attractive guy.

After a minute though, she decided something was wrong. The man hadn't passed the trees and bushes.

Feeling curious, she walked the hundred feet over to the tree stand and casually walked around it. There was no man there. Where did he go? She had certainly seen him walk behind the trees and she hadn't seen him walk out.

Very mysterious. She giggled. Maybe he was a spy!

After a couple of hours, she forgot the incident.

Harry casually walked out of his motel room. If anyone saw him, they would ignore it – he was under notice-me-not charms. Harry had applied a charm that he had learned from one of the Dumbledores he had run into. He was also under a glamour. He had changed his features as he didn't want anyone to tie Harry Planter to this – he had been angry when Will had described what had happened and he decided he was going to do something about it – and it wasn't going to be nice and explicable.

He made his way to the mosque Will had described. There were a couple of cars there. Harry went to knock on the door.

A man of middle-Eastern descent opened the door. He could see another behind him, keeping an eye out.

"Hello. Through a contact I heard of your tragedy. I am considering perhaps helping to arrange for some help for your mosque. May I come in and see the damage?"

Abdul Raoof looked at the man who had arrived at his door. He had been dealing with the attack all day – and dealing with heartbroken and angry members who were horrified with the attack. It had taken much talking to calm them down.

One of his cousins, Jahid, had agreed to stay overnight and watch: No one wanted to allow unknown vandals to come back and make it worse.

He had just completed giving Jahid instructions when a knock at the door came. The man before the door looked to be darker than most Americans but lighter than an Arab – he had trouble fixing his background. The man also had eyes which … what was the word from the song that his little girl had learned at pre-school? … twinkle! … yes, the man's eyes twinkled. But instead of a cheerful face, he looked resolute.

"I am Abdul Raoof Raheem. Please come in."

The man bowed briefly before entering. "I am Maarek Ilumian."

Jahid, who had a degree in anthropology and studies many cultures, tried to imagine where that name came from and what it could mean.

The Imam led Maarek to the large room which served to allow the members of the mosque to pray

The building had been a store in times past, which had been converted into a church. The church had moved to better quarters and he had bought it. Islam had a long tradition of taking the former buildings which had been used for worship by the People of the Book and converting them to mosques.

Some of his teachers had taught that this was to show the dominance of the Islam faith. Abdul Raoof, however, felt that it was just more respectful to use a place already designated for worship to Allah – whatever he was called by others.

The large room had had all of its pews removed and lines of mats had been placed. Because it hadn't been facing the correct direction, the orientation had been changed so that the lines were at a slight angle – and sideways to the room. A divider had been placed so that the women and men were separated. Truthfully, he had spent more time on the aesthetics for the women's side: They seemed to appreciate it more.

The "doorway to Paradise" … the decorated arc which showed in what direction to find Mecca … had been placed so that both sides of the partition could see it.

Westerners decried his faith for requiring men and women to pray separately. But he, as the Imam, knew that this allowed each member of his faith to concentrate upon their devotion to Allah instead of being taken by worldly distractions.

The mats, however, were all now defiled. The arc had been kicked by feet covered in the blood of animals. The divider had been torn down. It would not be difficult, he imagined, to repair the physical damage. The spiritual damage …

Harry looked around the room. He could feel the malevolence that had been present in the attack. The damage was harsh. He turned to the man who ran the mosque.

"This is a terrible sight. Could I ask that you and your man sit at the back and pray while I consider this?"

Abdul Raoof was surprised by the request … and a little confused. But he was pious. A request to pray was not a hardship. He and Jahid took two mats that were not defiled and began their prayers.

When they were fully distracted, Harry cast a silencing charm around them. He then cast a spell which was used by healers in his world to remove blood that had been spilt.

The blood soon disappeared. He glanced back and saw that the two were still praying. He cast a _reparo_ charm at the damaged arc. It reformed into its whole form: The decorations were now pristine and beautiful. The parts that lay around it were reattached and there was no indication that it had even been kicked.

Harry then cast a cleaning charm, with as much power as possible, into the room. The mats, the walls, and the items within the room were all now free of foreign matter.

He looked back once again and then cast several charms at the walls. Anti-fire, anti-hostility … common charms and wards that he had been casting repeatedly recently. Finally he was done.

He turned around and removed the spells which prevented the two men from hearing and seeing what he had been doing. The two finally finished and then opened their eyes.

Their eyes were wide at the changes they saw.

The room was returned to its former state – there were no damaged items fallen from walls, there were no defiled mats. One could not even see where there had ever been an attack at all.

The _mihrab_, the Gates of Paradise, was now in one piece again. The mosaic which was at its center was once again complete. The divider down the middle of the room was once again complete and in good order. The two men looked at the man who stood at the center of the room.

"The damage to a house of God, a house of Allah, offended me. Just as I have taken steps at the church and the synagogue that were both damaged, I have taken steps here. I am not God, nor an angel. I am not a member of your faith. But I have a great reverence and respect for Allah. My name is Maarek Ilumian, Fury of the Light. I will do what I can to ensure the one who committed the crime is prevented from doing it again."

With that Harry apparated away, leaving two men wide-eyed, kneeling on the floor. They looked at each other and then carefully began their prayers again, giving thanks to Allah for sending a messenger and restoring their faith.

Harry knew he shouldn't have done it, but some things really bothered him. He carefully removed the glamour and cleaned himself up before making his way out. He wanted to get a bite and the diner was nearby.

As he made his way over, the server poured a cup of tea – they had started getting the idea. He thanked the woman and sipped it and then sighed in satisfaction. He caught someone sitting next to him through the corner of his eye.

A boy, looking no older than Joan, sat before him. The boy had spiky hair, a made up face, a number of piercings, as well as black clothes. He recognized him from Joan's description. "Hello. How are things today?"

"Fine. I saw your work."

"I know. It offended me. All of that work at the synagogue and then this happened. I had to fix it."

Goth-boy God shrugged. "Your choice."

Harry smiled ruefully. "Yeah. But I might have gone a bit overboard with the drama – I really don't need to become a part of someone's worship."

God smirked. "Well, you did an okay job at explaining that. The didn't start praying to you."

Harry sighed in relief. He then turned and asked, "You want some pie? I was going to get some."

God actually looked breifly surprised at that. The notion had just come to him. But, getting a nod of approval, Harry quickly ordered the pie.

Very soon, both were eating their pie in companionable silence. They both finished. Harry drank some tea, and God had water.

God held the cup up. "Water. One of my better ideas, between you and me. Water is perhaps the most unique substance in the world."

Harry was curious. "Why is that?"

"The laws of thermodynamics, the laws of motion – I built a structure into the world and it runs by rules. I limited myself deliberately to those rules: Life, especially intelligent life, needs the freedom to decide for itself. But before there could be life, there had to be something which would balance out the rest of the elements and combinations. Every substance gets larger as it gets warmer and smaller as it gets colder – with one exception. Water. Water, when it freezes, gets bigger – takes up more space. Now, there had to be a proper, scientific reason for it, but it's mostly because there had to a balance in place so that life could form. Without water – there would be no life."

Harry looked at the cup that God had placed in front of Himself. "Wow. Never thought about that."

God shrugged. "Just something interesting."

Harry took more tea. "So, any suggestions?"

"Nah. Just keep doing your thing. Your moment is coming. It might be less time than I originally implied: A few decisions have changed the situation: It won't be months to resolve anymore.. I'm not saying it's good or bad, it's just different."

"Interesting. Well, I'll continue with what I think is right. It's all I can do."

God shrugged and got up. He waved backwards as he walked through the door.

FUTURE CONSEQUENCES

6 years after

Lilly smiled enthusiastically as the family came in. "Oh, good! My husband will be here soon."

The man looked at the former nun with a frown. Why was she so cheerful? "With the bus schedule, it was now or be late. Why do we need your husband?"

"You'll see!" She walked over to the man's wife and the baby she was pushing in a modern pram. "How is the little one doing?"

The woman, who seemed sad, replied, "She's doing well. Our parents have been helping since John came back. I just wish things weren't so hard."

Lilly gave the woman a nod of understanding as she put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Suddenly, Lilly's phone rang. She opened it and listened. "Okay. Good! We'll be right out. Stay there till we come out."

She closed the phone and looked at the couple. "Okay! Come with me!"

Lilly cheerfully moved out of the church.

The family, much more slowly followed. As soon as they exited, they saw Lilly standing next to an older station wagon. The family came up. "Okay! Wait here!" She turned to Kevin and their daughter. "Okay, come out."

Little Olivia climbed out of the car seat she was really too big for as soon as Lilly opened the door.

Kevin, however, took much longer to get out.

The man who was with his family frowned as Kevin exited the car with his wheelchair. He finally asked angrily, "Is this some sort of gimmick? A show? Cause I'm not entertained!"

Kevin smiled as he rolled over. "Nope. I've been in this chair for about … 9 years. Through chance or faith or a miracle …" Kevin reached behind and pulled out a small stick and flipped it. It expanded out and the man could see it was a cane, a telescoping cane. "… or whatever, I have come to the point where I really don't need it."

Kevin stood and carefully walked with his cane. He didn't walk like he was 27 – but he didn't walk like he was 90 either.

The man looked at Kevin bitterly. "Yeah. Great. You got better. It's a miracle!" He closed his eyes and then opened them. "I'm not going to get better! That IED made sure of it. I'll be in this chair," he smashed his hands against the wheels of the chair he was confined to, "for the rest of my life. So why are you telling me this?"

Kevin, having been there, was not offended at all. "Well, considering the fact that I no longer need a wheelchair, I no longer need a car with hand controls. I called my mom who bought it for me and she told me she paid 800 bucks for it from the police impound – and it's seven years older now. So, for 400 bucks, I can give it to someone who actually could really use it."

The man and his wife were staring at Kevin and the car in shock. Kevin looked at the car curiously. "It's kind of surprising. When I got it, it was a heap. But for some reason it seemed to get better as I drove it. Except changing the oil and getting new tires – it hasn't needed service for about five years." He shrugged as he turned back. "Lilly just thought that maybe you could use it more than me."

The man's wife started crying. Kevin, who wasn't good with tears, said nervously, "If it's about the money, you can make payments!"

The woman rushed over and threw her arms around Kevin. He looked at the man who was sitting there. He had been having a hard time getting a job because he had no way of getting to most of the places that were hiring. Most cars with the proper controls cost a whole lot of money. An affordable car he could drive? It was like hope out of the blue, a gift from God.

Even with his wife wrapped around the man, John reached over and shook his hand.

Lilly, who was holding their daughter, smiled joyfully as she watched.


	9. On Pheonixes and the Tapestry of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is Joan's assignment. Harry's part is really quite specific. I don't plan on continuing this past the point the Harry moves on – even if Ryan isn't "caught" yet. Therefore … it's really almost done. But there will be at least one more chapter – and an epilogue of sorts.

Harry was helping to carry an LVL, a manmade material for structural support, through the front door of the synagogue.

The contractor that Saul Polanski had hired using the insurance payout and the donations of his members was related to the man who had done the original surveying. Although the complete plans were not yet done, the new plans on the subfloor and the floor was ready – and Harry had been bored.

He had volunteered to work for the contractor for no charge. The volunteers, for the most part, wouldn't be really used until the basic structure was done. All safety, plumbing, HVAC, electrical, and structural elements had to be done with a licensed contractor.

So, Harry had volunteered and Saul had asked the man to accommodate him.

Elijah Marks watched as the crew brought in the new beam which would go up the center of the building. The man Saul had asked him to take on was actually a very good worker. And he worked for free. Since Elijah was charging much less than he could because it was a synagogue, every little cost-cutting item counted.

Elijah really wanted to finish the basic part today. He looked up at the temporary beams holding the walls. They would have to stay in place until the floor was done and the beams were set to hold the roof. The roof was actually missing – the old one was far too damaged to be repaired and the weight was a bit much for a shell not fully braced. So, this had been Elijah's first step.

Then the temporary braces. Then tear out the floor. Half of the building was on an old rubblestone/granite foundation. The front half was cinderblock. The front half also had a basement – this would be totally dedicated to the mechanicals.

The building would have offices, classrooms, library, a kosher kitchen, bathrooms, as well as a very large area for services. Entrance from the front was through a door which was above the basement – and about three feet off the ground. Entrance at the side was at ground level – the extra three feet would allow the main synagogue hall to be taller.

All in all, it would be a beautiful facility.

It took all day, but the main structural elements of the floor had been completed. The beams which would run below the main synagogue hall had been laid. About half the floor joists had also been installed. The front of the building had also had the main beams and posts constructed.

The crew, in good spirits, finished for the day and went home.

Harry, however, discretely cleaned himself up and sat on the bench which was still in the front of the building. Soon, Saul – who had been getting an update from Elijah – joined him.

"Hello, Harry. How are you today?" Saul asked as he sat down.

With a nod of greeting, Harry replied, "I'm doing well. I think we got a lot done."

"Elijah showed me. He was quite satisfied with your work."

"That's good. I'm not certain how much longer I'll be in town but it's been a joy to work on this."

Saul looked at the building and sighed. "I just wish that it hadn't been necessary. This building has been a synagogue since 1926. In the early years, there were many in the community that tried to force its closing. After World War II, sympathy for the Jewish people because of the holocaust allowed it to expand. I took it over as almost twenty years ago. This is the first time in all of those year in which services have not been held." He looked at Harry. "It has been a painful process."

Harry, he noted, was looking at the building with a serene look. He didn't even turn his head as he asked, "What do you know of phoenixes?"

Saul was taken aback by the question. "I believe it is a mythological bird from Greek mythology. The story is that it dies in fire and is reborn from the ashes. The tale has a solid foundation in western culture and is often used whenever it is implied that something new grows from destruction. In the Torah, a reference is made to a 'chol'. Many Raabbinacal scholars have interpreted this as a phoenix or a bird very much like a phoenix."

Harry turned his head and Saul was almost taken aback by Harry's look. "Interesting birds, phoenixes. The phoenix … in mythology (and why did Saul think that this was a misdirection) … the phoenix is a creature of fire." He looked back to the building. "As they get old and approach the end of a cycle, they experience what very much is like old age in humans. Really wretched looking, and they feel pretty sorry for themselves. And suddenly – suddenly they burst into flames."

Harry smiled as he looked off. (He looked like he was remembering, Saul thought.) "It's a surprise when it happens. When they're reborn, they are quite weak. You sift through the ashes and there is the phoenix reborn as a chick. But with proper care, they grow quickly, almost magically, and soon come into their own. They are creatures of light and no darkness can abide the cry of a phoenix. Their song is beautiful and gives hope to those that hear it. They can lift extremely large burdens. And, their tears can heal even the most grievous of injuries."

Harry turned his head back and looked at Saul. "Your synagogue is in the early stages: Weak, and not altogether pretty yet. But, like a phoenix, with proper care and a bit of love, it can grow quickly and soon be stronger than it was. Everything dies. But the story of the phoenix tells us that everything can also be reborn."

Harry stood. "I'll be back tomorrow. Have a good night, Rabbi."

Saul quickly stood and nodded to Harry as he walked off. Saul watched for a moment and then turned back and considered his synagogue.

* * *

For the next several days, Harry worked with the crew at the synagogue until the basic frame was completed and the temporary braces could be removed. He would take a break as the crew was working on the roof – and Elijah didn't want anyone working on that who wasn't an actual employee: Too much legal liability involved.

So, Harry decided it was time to check in with Joan. A phone call assured him that she would be working. So, at 11:00 he made his way to the store he had first met her in.

He walked in the door. He heard, "Hi! Can I help … Oh. Hello, Harry."

He grinned at the girl. "Hello, Joan. How are you this fine day?" He yelled this with a great deal of enthusiasm – much more than her mood would seem to be able to deal with if he read her right.

He was right. She gave him an evil look. "I'm fine." She took a breath and calmed down. "I finished what you asked. I even have begun writing down everything that's happened," she looked to make sure they were alone and then whispered, "with God."

Harry chuckled. "There's no one here but us, right? You can talk normally."

Joan got a pouting look. "I'm just trying to avoid crazy camp again."

Harry could tell that was something that had upset her, so he decided to stop being an ass. "Well, I'm sure it was enlightening."

Joan became more interested as she replied. "Yeah! It's been kind of cool looking back and explaining every time I saw Him … or Her, or whatever." She sighed. "It kind of makes me wonder what I was thinking sometimes."

Harry smiled at her. "It's part of growing up. If you can look back at what you've done before and honestly have to ask yourself, 'What was I thinking?' – you know you've matured since then, gotten better."

Joan smiled ruefully. "Well, I've matured a LOT apparently."

"So, where's your book?"

Joan went to her bag and pulled her journal out and reached out with it.

"No. Now I have to show you how to key someone in. Even though I set up the security, I can't open it."

Joan was surprised. "Wow. That's nice!"

"Open the cover."

She did that.

"Remember the square that you originally bled on?"

She looked at the book. "Yeah. Right here." She pointed to it.

"Put your finger on it and say, 'I give permission for Harry Potter, one day."

She repeated what he said. "Okay. For around 24 hours, I'll be able to read it. To permanently key someone in, you'd have to prick your thumb, have that person prick their thumb and both put a drop of blood on the square at the same time. But," and he took on a serious look, "once you give them permission, it's permanent."

Joan took on a nervous look. "What's the maximum with just saying it?"

Harry thought about it. "I don't know. If it works like most magical rituals, probably a year and a day."

Joan looked curious. "Rituals?"

Harry nodded. "You're really performing a simple ritual when you give permission. You don't need a witness. Keying you in was a blood ritual."

Joan looked slightly anxious. "I don't know, that sounds kind of … arcane."

Harry looked at Joan with a deadpan look. "Magic IS arcane."

Joan looked embarrassed. "Yeah. Well. There is that." Once again, she calmed her face. "So, I've given permission. So here." She handed over the book. "It's on the second page. And then there's more on pages sixty through sixty-two." Harry looked surprised. "Yeah. I've been out of school – had a lot of time to write. Once I got into it, I just kind of kept going."

Harry opened the book and started reading. Page two had pretty much what she had told him before. Instead of pushing to the pages she told him about, he continued skimming through.

Joan realized what he was doing. "Hey! Some of that stuff is private!"

Harry looked at her with an annoyed look. "Who am I going to tell? And besides, I've been a teenager and had teenage girls as friends. I know basically what they think about and it doesn't bother me. Besides, I'm probably going to be gone soon and likely for good – so you don't have to worry about me being judgmental."

She reluctantly left him alone to finish after that.

At one point Harry said, "Joan?"

She looked over from where she was playing solitaire at the front computer. "Yeah?"

"You need to learn how to spell."

She gave him a look. "Yeah. Whatever. It's not for school or for other people to read."

"Still, it's a good habit to get into."

She shrugged and went back to her game.

Finally, he finished what she had written. He closed the book and thought about it. It was quite an interesting history. It wasn't as dramatic as his own, but she definitely was somewhat of a kindred spirit: Trying to do the right thing, not knowing exactly why she was being directed.

He sighed.

Joan looked over and noticed Harry was done. She was nervous. "So, what's the verdict?"

He looked at her with a friendly smile. "I think you've done a pretty good job. My childhood kind of taught me my attitude and skills. It's the basis for how and why I do things. You, however, didn't have that. You were a typical teenage girl with no special training and were kind of flung into the thick of it. For all of that – I'm quite impressed with you."

Joan looked at Harry in shock. No one who knew her or who had been around her for the last two years had ever said anything like that. There were instances, here and there, where she had received praise – but usually it was fleeting or "You lucked out" or "You did a great job – for a crazy woman."

God gave her encouragement, but never really explained and rarely explained afterword – seeming to feel that her success was expected. That was alright for God – but she was a teenage girl and she liked approval.

No one had just given that approval – with no expectation or agenda. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

They were distracted by the tinkle of the door. They both looked over. Joan and Harry both recognized Him. This was Cute-boy God. Harry hadn't seen this version yet, but the description was pretty clear in her journal.

"Hello, Joan. Hello, Harry."

Joan gave a wave. Harry said, "Hello. You know what I'm thinking, right?"

God sighed. One of His normal flippant responses would just exemplify Harry's point. "Yeah. But you should say it."

Harry looked at Joan briefly (she looked curious) and then addressed the Deity. "You're God. You react like God and you think like God – no matter how well you allow this miniscule portion of reality to relate to you. I imagine thinning your consciousness down to our level takes some effort?"

God smiled at that. "Sometimes."

"Well, just a small thing: Joan respects You. She follows You – even if it's reluctant at times. And she loves You. But she's human and a cheerful 'Well Done' at times would go a long way toward her better relating to You. You might have Billions of years of practice in relating to your creations, but Your creations have to practice relating to you."

God looked at Harry expectantly. "And how about you? Are you practicing relating to Me?"

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Me? I'm still learning – and I've been doing this for MUCH longer than she has." He had a thought and God nodded slightly.

He then turned to Joan, who way staring at the two wide-eyed. "Joan?"

"Yeah?"

"You have a dollar?"

Joan was confused. "Yeah."

"Grab it and let's go out the front door."

The two went to the door and outside. There wasn't much happening – most people were at work or at home. But there were a few people appearing for the lunch hour.

"Take the dollar and let it be taken by the breeze."

Joan looked at him like he was crazy for a moment but then sighed and did as he asked. "Watch it."

The dollar bill blew a few feet and then paused. Another gust took it further. Finally, Joan saw it blow right next to a little girl, who suddenly saw it and picked it up. Even though she was too far to hear what was being said, she could see the little girl talking excitedly to her mother and pointing to an ice cream shop. Her other looked down, looked around to see if someone appeared to have lost the dollar, and then back down. She said something, and it was obvious that the girl was even more excited. The two then made their way over to the shop.

Harry led Joan back in. "Now. I have a question."

Joan, who was looking confused, replied, "Okay?"

"What value did that have?"

Joan thought about it. "Maybe …the little girl was suicidal and getting an ice cream cheered her up? And she's going to grow up and figure out how to cure cancer?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. "Try again."

Joan gave two more possibilities that showed she understood how life was interconnected, but she was reaching too far.

"Joan? You think too much."

"Huh?"

"Look outside."

Looking outside, Joan saw the little girl and mother walking past the store. The little girl was eating a small cone of ice cream. The girl saw Joan looking at her and waved. Joan waved back.

"Maybe you were right. Maybe it's a small part of a great cosmic event. But you're ignoring the obvious: There's a smile on a child's face. That's it. Nothing else. A momentary and easily forgotten moment of joy for a random stranger that will no effect beyond that one little thing. Does it matter that the girl doesn't know that you sent the dollar on its way?"

Joan shook her head. "Do you feel the need to go out and tell the girl how wonderful you were in sending the dollar and starting the chain?"

Joan shrugged and said, "No."

Harry smiled at her. "And do you need me or your mother or even God to tell you that you did a good job?"

"No."

"Now – consider all the bad consequences. What if that girl was just on the edge of being diabetic and this little incident pushed it over the edge?"

Joan looked horrified. "No!"

Harry shushed her. "No, it's probably not like that. My point is: Everything is related. And you really don't need to know the final result in order to know one thing: Something you did had an effect. And since God is involved – it's not likely it was a bad effect. Even if the girl got diabetes now, maybe if she didn't get it now she'd get it in three months – after her family moved away from the doctor who could have caught it and prevented her from going into a diabetic coma from an untreated condition."

Joan was once again wide-eyed. She looked over at God, who was looking at the two calmly.

Harry looked over. "Can you explain the results?"

Joan said quietly, "Ripples."

God smiled and said, "The little girl found the dollar which made her happy. Wanting to share in her newfound fortune (her free will) she convinced her mother to use her extra quarter and another fifty cents to buy her little brother an ice cream too – she had it in the bag (the mother's free will). When they get to the daycare, the little girl will give her brother the ice cream. Wanting to show his friend how great his sister is, he shares it with his friend (the boy's free will). Because the boy's friend got to have ice cream, he's going to not be as hungry when his mother picked him up at 3:00. And because he isn't as hungry, he won't yell in the back seat of the car, distracting his mother. Because she isn't distracted she will see the red light she would have missed – and now, the little boy will be able to go home tonight without a concussion from the accident. Life goes on."

Harry nodded even as Joan tried to work things through in her head. "And, what would have happened if Joan had NOT dropped the dollar."

God shrugged. "The girl would have been just as cheerful as before. She would have convinced her mother to buy her candy because she saw a teenager with spikes and chains walking down the street eating a candy bar. She would still given some to her brother. Who would have shared – the mother taught her children to always share in their good fortune (her free will there based on her own upbringing). The candy would have had more sugar and when he shared it with his friend, the friend would have been sleepy and not caused a fuss. The mother sees the red light. Everyone goes home."

Joan was confused. "Wait! So the accident would have been avoided anyway?"

Harry put a hand on her shoulder. "What would have happened if the girl hadn't brought anything for her brother? If she had decided he didn't need it and she deserved it more? That she didn't need to share?"

God looked at Joan as he said, "A week from now a line of cars would be driving down this road toward the cemetery. Carrying a coffin for a four-year-old boy who never woke up from the coma he had slipped into after receiving a concussion in a car accident."

Joan asked in a whisper, "So I saved his life?"

Harry shook his head again. "Did I save his life by making you drop the dollar?"

"Weeell, kind of."

"Did the little girl save the boy's life by sharing?"

"Umm. Yeah?"

"Or did He save the boy's life by causing the chain of events? Or the mother by teaching her daughter to share?"

Joan tried to think of it all and got frustrated. She closed her eyes as she yelled, "What does it matter? His life was saved!"

"Exactly!"

Joan raised hear head and opened her eyes. "Huh?"

Harry smiled at her. "Do you need to claim the life saved? Is it really all that important?"

Joan sighed. "I guess not. It's just nice to know."

Harry shrugged. "If your dollar wasn't involved, you wouldn't have had anything to do with it. A child is cheered, a life is saved. And it had not much to do with you at all. The universe lives on whether the boy survived or not. But maybe, just maybe, it's a bit of a brighter place by you doing your small little part. A small action. It might be inconsequential or huge. But you did it regardless. It cost you a small sacrifice. He could have ignored your sacrifice and used his original plan. And then used your sacrifice for something else. In the end – the whole world is part of God's plan. Whether you're involved or not."

Harry shrugged. "I think it just makes it a bit easier if you – and everyone else – does their small little parts to make it a bit easier for Him."

Joan considered that. She looked at Harry, out the window, back to Harry, and then back to God. She walked over and, surprisingly (she wasn't the type to normally do this outside of her family) she threw her arms around the Cute Boy avatar of the Almighty.

"Thanks for using my dollar to save the boy's life."

Harry decided that perhaps, just perhaps, Joan was finally getting it.

* * *

A/N: Google "Acts of Random Kindness." It's an interesting concept. Perhaps God uses us all at times. And is that such a bad thing?

"Remember there's no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end."

—Scott Adams  
Creator of Dilbert Comic Strip


	10. Auras and Compulsions; Moving On

Ryan Hunter once again parked his car down the street from the synagogue. He had heard that the mosque had been cleaned up and was running within a day – a DAY! The church had been cleaned and services had resumed far faster than he had anticipated.

And the synagogue that had been _burned to the ground_ was being raised like the proverbial Amish barn – the whole community was working hard to get it done. And from the gossip it would be done in weeks.

He had thought to come and get a closer look – President of the Community Watchdog Group and all that – but he had become so angry at his plans being thwarted that he didn't know if he could maintain the façade.

He did, however, learn of a man who seemed to be around. According to his guy, the man had helped at the church and was helping at the synagogue. There was no word from the mosque – but his guy had said the Imam had reacted strangely when Planter had been described.

He pulled out and turned around. It was time to sow the seeds of discord.

* * *

Carlisle was looking at a file as he walked into his boss's office.

"Chief."

"Hey! You're not eating! I'm … I … I don't think I've ever seen you not eating!" Will said with some humor.

Carlisle gave his boss a look which spoke volumes – even as he tried to hide the twitch of his lip. "ANYWAY. There's a guy I'm checking out. You know him."

"Oh? Who?"

"Harry Planter." Carlisle was looking at the file and so didn't see the incredulity on the face of the Chief of Detectives. "A random tip said that he's been involved with cleaning up the church and synagogue. And the Imam at the mosque seemed to recognize his picture. The tip said that maybe this guy was using these attacks to get in good with the community."

Will was curious. "Where did this tip come from?"

"Citizen's Watchdog Committee."

"Hmm. Hunter's group?"

"Yeah."

"I see." Will sat back. "Was he around before the first attack?"

"I've been asking around. I don't have enough detail but I haven't gotten any iron-clad alibi for any of the attacks, so I'm going to go find this guy and ask."

Will held up a hand. "That would be alright except one thing. I know exactly where he was on the night of the synagogue fire."

Carlisle was surprised. "Really? Where was he?"

Will looked at Carlisle with no humor. "My house. On my couch. According to my wife and daughter, he had to be woken up when they went over to comfort Joan's friend."

"Oh. Yeah, that's pretty airtight."

"Besides, he's a cop. A decorated cop. With an Order of Chivalry from the Queen of England. He's traveling around trying to get his life together after his wife was killed. He was just traveling through Arcadia when he heard about the church – a week after it happened. He's been working at the synagogue to help rebuild it. And I hadn't heard that he visited the mosque – I know he was upset about it when I told him but no one actually saw him visit the place. So …"

"Yeah. I'll keep looking." Carlisle turned around and started to walk out.

The rumor against Harry annoyed Will. He was a good judge of character and Harry was good people. Just as Carlisle was about to cross the threshold, Will called out his name. Carlisle turned around. "Come back in and close the door."

"Yeah, Boss?" Carlisle was nervous.

Will considered what he had been being told and the latest rumor and made a decision. "We've been cops for a while now, right?"

"Yeah."

"What does our experience tell us when someone starts accusing random people that 'might be' involved?"

Carlisle thought about it and had an "A-Ha!" moment. "It's what a perp does to throw of suspicion. Sometimes it works, too."

"Right. Did you notice that Hunter popped up pretty much right before the church vandalism? Got involved with the police, the school, the community? In positions of authority too. Where did he come from? Where did his money come from? What is his real goal?"

Carlisle considered his boss. "Wow. This kind of reminds me of what Arcadia when through before you blew up the city government."

Will nodded. "Scary, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Here's what I know: I have people who I know who have told me that they thought Ryan Hunter was involved – but no proof. I've looked a little and there was no evidence. I didn't take it further because I didn't want to be hunting wild geese. But, with this rumor coming from Hunter's group … let's just say that my instincts have been forcibly poked with a stick."

"So how do we play this?"

"We're going to warn Harry first. I'll have my daughter contact him because she seems to know him the best of the people in my family. And then we're going to 'investigate' the statement – and use it to get an in on Hunter's committee. You know the drill. Ask questions about what they know, what they've seen … why they think he's involved. How they came to that conclusion. Etc. Etc. Appear cooperative. We'll have to have a reason to take it further when Harry is officially exonerated, but I'm sure we can think of something."

"Okay, Boss. I'll get right on that."

Will nodded and then Carlisle left. Carlisle had a lot of looking things up to do – after he got a snack. He was feeling peckish.

* * *

Joan was at the park with Harry. Harry had put up a few notice-me-not charms so that no one would see what they were doing.

"Okay. Once again. Clear your mind. Push away the negative and exude the positive."

Harry decided that he would try to teach Joan to project her aura. He was surprised to find that she had a bit of an aura already. A charm on his glasses allowed him to see it. He found that in this world, even without people with active magic, a number of people did have an aura. It seemed to manifest as spiritual awareness.

Joan had a tendency to pull in her aura when she was confused or overwhelmed. The description of Ryan and his effect on her pointed toward her allowing her own aura to be overwhelmed. He was trying to fix it.

Joan once again began to push out. When it seemed stable, Harry asked, "How do you feel?"

"Powerful. Confident." Joan was loving this.

"And how do you feel about Ryan Hunter?"

Finally, her Aura did not retreat upon the mention of his name. "He's got a bug up his ass about God. And he's decided to do something about it. He's on a bad path."

"And what are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to learn more and then I'm going to show him that he's wrong. That he doesn't need to go that way."

Harry nodded in satisfaction. Joan was subconsciously maintaining the aura. So Harry decided he was going to go on to the next step. "How? You're just an immature little girl and he's got much more power!"

The aura wavered for a moment but then solidified. "I might be a teenager, but I know what's right and what isn't."

Harry nodded cheerfully. And then asked, "How can you be so sure? You can't even keep a boyfriend? You just mess up everything."

Joan's aura suddenly started collapsing. Harry called out, "Concentrate! Ignore the insults. Ignore the disdain. You don't need my approval! Why are you allowing yourself to be suppressed?"

Joan's face took on an intense look of concentration as she mentally pushed the negative comments to the side. Her aura, which had been drawing in, suddenly stopped and moved back out.

"Good! Excellent!"

Joan took a deep breath and suddenly relaxed. Her aura dropped back – but Harry noticed she still exuded it slightly.

Joan's face took on a look of frustration. "How do I know if I'm doing it right? I can't see this 'auror' thingy!"

"Aura. Aura. An auror is a magical policeman."

She scoffed. "Whatever. Aura. Anyway … how do I know it's really there?"

Harry considered that. "Do you have any glasses?"

Joan decided not to make a comment about blindness and thought about it. "I have sunglasses."

"Pull them out."

She grabbed her purse and looked through it, finally pulled out a cheap pair of sunglasses. She handed these to Harry.

He looked them over. "Good. Real glass for lenses." He tapped them with his wand and cast the charm. "Okay. Put them on and look around at other people."

She took them and put them on. As she looked around she said, "Woah! That's freaky!"

She lifted the sunglasses up and pulled them down repeatedly, looking at people with and without them. "So that light around them is their aura?"

"Yeah. How many people have it?"

"Not a lot. But there are a few." She turned to another direction and said, "Wow!"

Harry turned and saw what she was seeing. There was a little girl playing with a ball. Her aura was like the sun. Harry cancelled his charm and told Joan to put away her glasses.

They walked over to the Girl.

"Hey, Joan! Hey, Harry!"

"Hey, God," Joan said. Harry grinned as he have a little wave. God smirked at that.

"I see you two are working hard."

Joan was confident. "Yeah. It's hard. But it's kind of cool. Will this even make a difference though?"

God looked at Joan. "Every skill you can learn is important. It helps you in life, helps to achieve your goals. What you're learning to do is something that most people who do it learn though years of experience: How to exert themselves on their environment on an unseen level. Harry's just speeding up the process for you."

Joan wanted to be sure. "So I could have learned to do this without him?"

"Of course! You're an instrument of My Will, bound by the laws of the universe. Perfect. You don't think I'd create an instrument that didn't work did you?" Joan gave the Girl a look at that. "Harry just comes from a universe where it's more obvious and more common."

"Yeah. I just hope this helps me deal with Hunter." God shrugged. "Anyway, why did you stop by?"

"I was just admiring the lesson. And I wanted to tell you," she spoke to Harry, "that I'll be visiting from time to time after you leave this universe. I will have suggestions."

"Er. Aren't I doing the work of one of your Grandchildren? Do they know about this?"

The Girl looked at Harry in admonishment. "You're your own person. My grandchild needed that explained but came around quickly. Besides, if you're anyone's – you're mine."

Harry laughed. "We're all yours really."

The Girl smirked. "And don't you forget it." Suddenly, she looked around. "I have to go. Have fun!" She left with a wave and a smile.

The two smiled as the watched her move quickly out of sight.

Suddenly, Joan's phone went off. She pulled it out and looked at it and then opened it. "Hey, Dad. What's up? … Yeah, he's right here actually. We're at the park and he's teaching me something. … 5:00? Umm. I'll be at the bookstore. Hold on." She turned to Harry and asked, "Where will you be at 5:00? My Dad wants to talk to you about something."

Harry thought about it. "I have the day off because inspections have to happen before the synagogue can move forward. So I don't have plans. I don't know … I guess I can hang out with you and be at the bookstore then too."

Joan nodded and said into the phone, "He'll come to the bookstore so you can find him. … Yeah. But he's too old, so you don't have to worry. He's like … thirty or something! … Yeah, whatever. Ha ha. … Love you too. Bye."

Harry looked at Joan curiously. "Dad making a joke about us spending time together. Sorry, but you're too old for me."

Harry grinned. "That's okay. In my world there are different rules, but to be perfectly honest you _feel_ too young to me. So I won't be hitting on you if you're worried."

Joan smirked. "Yeah. I can appreciate that. Thanks."

Harry wanted to mess with her, so as they walked back to where they had been working he volunteered, "Yeah. But if your brother's girlfriend wasn't involved – she'd be fair game. She's kind of hot."

Joan looked at him in horror. "Lilly? You and Lilly? Ewwww!"

Harry just laughed.

* * *

Harry was sitting behind a shelf looking over some books while Joan was working at the front desk. He had a half an hour until Will showed and he needed something to do.

He heard the door open, but didn't pay it much mind – until he heard the conversation.

"Can I help … oh, it's _you_."

"Yes. It's _me_. Thought I'd just check in on the competition." Harry looked out from where he had been sitting and saw the man's face. He was smirking. Wordlessly, he tapped his glasses and applied the aura-detection charm again. He wanted to see how Joan held up.

The man's aura was powerful – there was no doubt about that. But Joan's aura, he was happy to note, was not collapsing. It wasn't quite as big – but it was staying firm.

"I see. Still blaming God for what you don't like?"

"Oh. I don't blame God – of course not!" His smirk dropped. "I just don't think that I need to be God's gofer and plaything."

Joan's aura wavered for a moment … and then suddenly was much stronger. Joan, it appeared, had decided to take the bull by the horns. "What exactly is your beef, anyway? Why are you so disgruntled?"

Joan's tone was confident and without hesitation. Harry noticed that Ryan's aura was suddenly more chaotic: Ryan was surprised by Joan and his aura showed it.

"Oh, why bring up ancient history?"

Harry then noticed something … _off_. Hunter's aura was fairly consistent – except over his neck. There was something …

Harry stood up and walked over toward the two.

Joan and Ryan were both surprised by the interruption. Joan was looking confused – but Ryan's reaction was unexpected.

"Harry?" Ryan Hunter, for some reason, now sounded like a little boy.

"Yeah. That's me. How are you?"

Ryan didn't answer the question. Instead he said, "I haven't seen you in years. Not since you gave me …" Ryan's hand reached up and then dropped.

"The necklace?"

"Yeah."

Harry considered that the protection necklace Hunter was wearing was likely charmed for him particularly. "Can I see it? It's been a while."

Ryan was taken aback. "You said never to take it off."

"Yeah. But I'm here now. A minute or two won't make a difference."

Ryan, almost reluctantly, opened his shirt collar and reached behind his neck. He unclasped the necklace he wore and handed it over to Harry, who had his hand out.

Harry took his want and did a diagnostic. He sighed. "Yeah. My magical signature." He looked at Ryan Hunter. "I have some good news and some bad news."

"What?"

When Harry glanced, Joan was looking at the two with very wide eyes. "The protections are as strong as ever. But there was a mistake made."

"A mistake?" Ryan sounded like he was about to cry.

"Yeah." Harry sighed again. "You told me that you didn't want to see the unreal again? Didn't want to see the dead?"

"Yes. God was enough. I didn't need the hallucinations on top of that." Ryan's voice took on a hard look.

"I'm sorry. But there is no charm for that. Instead, a compulsion was placed on this necklace to ignore the supernatural. Instead of not seeing them, you just ignored them."

Ryan was taken aback. "But there's no such thing as ghosts … once you're dead you're gone …"

"I'm sorry. But that's not true." Harry cast the charm to remove the compulsions as well as a small curse which – if he didn't know better – he might have placed for the reasons Ryan was talking about. "There was a mistake made when the charm was put on it. It messed with your mind. I'm leaving the protections … but the compulsions and the extras had to go."

He handed the necklace back to Ryan who took it numbly and absently put it back on – it was such a part of his life that he didn't even consider NOT putting it back on. "Go home and sleep. And think about what changed when you got this. You have the protections promised – but the spells that made you invisible to spirits and they to you are gone."

Ryan looked at Harry and held the pendant on the necklace. He looked like his whole world was crumbling. He didn't say anything as he turned around and walked out of the store.

Joan finally asked, "What was THAT?"

Harry sighed as he sat down. "That was a very bad decision made by my dimensional brother that our friend mentioned."

Joan looked serious. "Explain!"

Harry explained the concept of protection charms vs. wards vs. curses. He explained about compulsions and some experiences he – and other versions of himself – had lived through.

"But it's worse if someone doesn't have any magic. A compulsion on someone who's not magical tends to almost mutate – their whole world-view changes to satisfy the command within them. But it doesn't FIX the behaviour. My Uncle and Aunt likely received compulsions to stay away from me when they were angry or feeling destructive. It resulted in me living in a cupboard under the stairs and being denied food – because they couldn't STAND to see me. Their attitude wasn't changed – they were just given commands to alter their methods."

Joan was horrified. "How could they?"

There was another sound of the door opening. Both looked over and saw the Goth boy version of God. "I gave free will to humans for a reason. The type of magic that Harry is talking about directly violates that. Such things have their place – but not applied the way they were. And not applied as often as his people do it."

Harry looked at God. "Yeah. But some spells have no good place. Such as the ones I try to fix."

God nodded in acknowledgement. "Free will means that. I've been very satisfied with how you've dealt with it."

Joan was curious. "What are you two talking about?"

Harry looked at Joan and back at God. He shook His head slightly. "Well, there are just some things, Joan, which should never see the light of day. Even explaining them is horrible, especially if it's not necessary. Be happy that you don't know and will never see the types of magicks that we are obliquely referring to."

Joan looked at God and saw that he agreed with Harry not telling. It must be really bad. She decided she'd rather not know.

God smiled and said, "At the suggestion of Harry I'm going to say something: Well done, Joan!"

Joan smiled in reference to their conversation from before. It WAS nice to get acknowledgement. "How'd you know what the spells were?"

Harry sighed through his teeth. "I remember from your journal Ryan talking about how when it's over, it's over. I thought it sounded particularly bitter. So I figured the compulsions I was seeing were to cut him off from the supernatural. It mutated his aura until his aura started interfering with people around him."

Joan looked over at God, who nodded. Joan asked, "So, what now?"

"Now, you work on being the counterbalance. Harry did his part by getting rid of the extra weight on his side of the scale. The rest is up to you."

She looked panicked and asked Harry, "You're going away?" Harry had been the first one on HER side!

"Yeah. But think about what we've covered and what He's told you," Harry pointed to Goth-boy God. "You do good work. I'm sure you'll continue doing good work."

The door sounded again. It was Will Girardi. "Hello, Joan! Hello, Harry! Hello, …. random person!" He paused. "Wait, do I know you?"

Joan and Harry looked at each other and laughed. Will was confused. The Goth kid just smirked. "I'm a friend of Joan and Harry … and your wife, come to think of it. Describe me to your wife. Tell her she can tell you who I am." The boy left, giving a backwards wave as he did so.

Will looked at the door and then shook his head to clear it. He turned back to Harry. "Harry. I need a favor."

"Um. I hope it's quick. I'm leaving very soon."

"Oh? You're moving on?"

"Yeah. I finished what I can do around here. Joan and friends will finish it."

"Oh. Too bad. You were a good guy to have around." He sighed. "I guess my plan won't work."

Joan was curious. "What plan?"

Will looked at the two. "Hunter's Watchdog group tried to push the blame on Harry Planter as someone who was suddenly around and might be to blame for the attacks on churches."

Joan was outraged. "He's been helping fix it! How can you …"

Will put his hand in front of her mouth. "I know it's bogus. Harry was on our couch when the fire happened. I just wanted to 'investigate the report' and use it to get into Hunter's group."

Joan was surprised. "You're checking him out?"

"Yeah." He smiled at her. "You convinced me that Hunter should be a person of interest in this case. So we're investigating." Joan threw her arms around her Dad in joy.

When she let him go, he looked at Harry. "It's too bad you're moving on. We were going to ask you to allow us to use you as the reason we're talking to them."

Harry was curious. "Why can't you still do that?"

"Because if you're in another police department's jurisdiction and inquiries come in about you, they might start looking at you suspiciously and I don't want to put you through that."

Harry and Joan looked at each other and smirked. "It's not a problem. Nothing you can do will inconvenience me."

Will was really curious. "How's that?"

Harry paused. He had started to feel the call, so he knew he didn't have much time.

"Well … give me a moment." He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his wallet, ID, passbook, and the papers with them. He kept his wallet and ID and a few bucks, but pushed everything over to Joan, including the extra money he had on him. He pulled his wand and put his finger in front of his lips to silence Will.

He conjured a piece of parchment, making it as permanent as possible, and wrote out a note. It gave authorization for Joan to proxy his affairs and an introduction for her so that she could turn in everything to the Lord Chamberlain for safekeeping.

Harry's account was, after all, being managed by the Household staff.

Will was completely gobsmacked. He didn't know WHAT to think.

Harry wrote out two checks from his passbook as well. One was for 5,000 pounds made out to Joan Girardi and one was for 10, made out to Saul Polanski.

"Joan? I'm not going to be needing most of this stuff. This," he handed a check over to her, "is for the synagogue. You'll have to convey my regrets. This," he handed the other check over and put the passbook on top of the papers, "is enough money to travel to the UK and have a short vacation. My papers will have to be returned to the Lord Chamberlain personally. If anyone asks, show them the parchment."

Harry deliberately cast the spell to seal a document with the Potter Crest.

Will was still speechless. So Harry reached out and took his hand. Will numbly shook it. Harry turned and gave Joan a brief hug. "There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Will Girardi, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. You're a good man, with a good family. I wish you Happiness on the road ahead."

Harry turned and compressed into a small ball of light. Phoenix sound wafted around the room and it gave a sense of hope, and joy. Very soon, the ball disappeared and the music soon ended as well.

Will turned to Joan. "What the hell was that?"

"Well, Daddy. Hell has very little to do with it. That was Harry Potter, the Lone Traveler."

Will was dumbstruck. "Harry Potter like in the stories?"

Joan paused. "You know how Luke goes on about string theory and alternate universes and all that?" Will nodded. "You just saw one of the very many Harry Potters which exist in some of the very many large number of universes."

Will had to sit down. He took a deep breath. "Okay. Can you explain everything to me? Using small, simple words that won't confuse me?" He had a thought. "And who was the guy who said that he was Harry's friend?"

Joan suddenly laughed. "Well, Daddy, that was God."

Will felt the immediate protest he always felt whenever God was mentioned. "What do you mean God?"

Joan considered her father. "Do you have about an hour?"

Will suddenly decided that he did. "We'll have to call your mother and say I'll be late."

"Do that. Boy do I have something for you!"

Will called Helen and told her that he was with Joan and would be home late, probably after she got off work. Helen understood.

"Okay. We've got until your shift ends." Will had turned back. Joan was holding a book.

"Try to read that."

Will opened it and read the first page. "Uh, Honey? This is your diary. I don't think a father wants to read a teenager's diary – they're scary things."

Joan smirked as she took back the book. "Will Girardi. A Year and a Day." She handed it back. "Look again." Will was shocked to find that the book was now different. He looked up in amazement. "Harry took an hour to read it all. You've got to be as smart as he is – you're my Dad!"

Will smiled at that childish faith in him – he kind of missed that from when the kids were small. He made his way out of the way and sat down to read the book.

Will ignored the few customers that actually came in to buy books or to browse. Every once in a while he look up and watch Joan work. She seemed much happier that he had seen her in quite a while. He would then go back to reading the book.

The book answered many questions and confusions he had about God. Why terrible things happened. Why no sudden miracles. The description of the incident with the dollar really opened his eyes to why terrible things could happen sometimes for no apparent reason.

It was all about Free Will. And God didn't mess with Free Will because he had limited himself to the rules. Will was angry about the rules, but Joan's conjecture toward the end was so in line with what confused him about God that he couldn't even protest it. It was obvious that Joan wasn't really told anything either – she had to work most of it out herself.

But the theme which came across most strongly was that God worked through the little things. Little things that became big things. There were no massive miracles defying explanation. Miracles were the product of a small effort expanding out.

Even Will himself had been given gifts – without him ever being aware of it. God apparently loved everyone – even if he didn't agree with what they decided to do. Such as Ryan Hunter.

Will was shocked to discover that the book he was reading now gave him more faith in God than all of the parts of the bible that he was forced to read as a kid.

Will finally finished reading it and closed the book. Joan noticed and came over. "I hope that explained a few things."

"Yeah. I'm just trying to get my head wrapped around it."

"Yeah. I know. Kind of shocking when you think about it." She then said excitedly, "Wait till you read the rest tomorrow! There were a few things that happened today!"

"With God?"

"Actually with Ryan Hunter." Joan took on a look. "Frea-Ky!"

"What about Hunter?"

"He came in a half an hour before you. He had some weird spells on him from ANOTHER Harry – I'll explain it in the journal and you can read it tomorrow!"

She looked at the clock. It was near closing time. She went to her bag and took out the sunglasses. Yep! They still worked. Harry said it was temporary but it luckily was lasting long enough for this.

"I'm going to drive us home. I want you to put these on and watch people as we drive home." Will was hesitant – Joan's smirk was a little scary. But finally he accepted the glasses.

When the two were in the car Joan looked over. "Put them on."

He did it. Suddenly, Joan had a little nimbus of light around her. "What is that?"

She smirked again. "I'll explain when we're home. But you're seeing the auras of people you're looking at."

Will was having actually having fun watching the people they passed as they drove down the road. Most had no auras. But some had small ones and others were very big. He saw a mother and daughter and he noticed that their auras were actually interacting with each other: Whenever the girl talked to her mother, the lights around each of them would reach out and touch. He pulled down the glasses and looked without them. All he could see was a happy woman and child. He put the glasses back on and looked at Joan. She was smirking at him. He smiled ruefully in return.

He looked around again and something caught his eye. He called out, "Stop the car, Joan."

Joan stopped and asked, "What?"

He handed her his phone and said, "Call the desk – it's number eight on speed dial. Tell them that the Chief of Detectives is at Washington and Melody handling a possible 273D. I need squad car backup."

Joan watched as her father pulled the sunglasses from his face, dropped them on the seat, and jumped out toward a man and woman. Just as the man started throwing his fist forward, Will called out, "Stop! Police! Down on the ground!"

The man stopped before hitting the woman and looked back. Will was standing there with his gun pointed and his badge in the other hand. "Down! Now! Hands behind your back!"

Joan, having made the call, rushed over to the woman. "Are you okay?"

The woman was almost in tears. "It's my ex-boyfriend. We broke up and he wasn't happy about it. He was about to hit me like he used to when we were together."

Joan threw her arm around the woman's shoulder. "Well, my Dad is going to send him to jail. So you're okay now." The woman turned her head against Joan's shoulder and cried. Joan could only wrap her arms around the woman and let her.

* * *

The two were once again moving home. Will had not put on the glasses. Will was thinking.

Joan looked over. "Ripples, Dad."

Will was startled out of his thoughts. "Huh?"

"Harry made the glasses to help me understand something. Being able to talk to you about it let me give them to you to use them. Because you used them, you saw that guy attacking that woman – before it began. It's a ripple."

"So without the glasses God would have let it happen?"

Joan shrugged. "Or God would have put a squad car passing by because of some random call and the passing cop would have seen it." She turned her head to look at him and frowned. "Or the woman could have meekly gone with him and the beating would have been out of sight." She turned her head back to the road. "Free will. God can only do so much. The rest is up to us."

Will sighed. "I kind of think I liked it when I didn't KNOW that God was involved. It made it less confusing."

Joan sent a smile over to her father. "God really respects you, you know? You always tried to do the right thing – even if you thought that there was no God or God was uncaring. He doesn't need you to worship Him, you know? He just needs you to be yourself." She paused and then said, "You're still the best man that I know."

Will sat and thought about what Joan had told him about the rest of the way home.

Later that night, he freaked his wife out when he asked about a teenager that dressed Goth. It took a while, but Helen finally admitted that God looked like that to her once in a dream.

She was expecting Will to get all confrontational because God was mentioned. Her surprise was evident when Will just thanked her and went back to getting ready for bed.

Helen was a little annoyed when she said, "Go ahead and say it. I know you have something to say about me dreaming about God."

Will sighed as he looked over at his wife. He had obviously upset his wife whenever he ranted about God – she had just tried to hide it.

So, he went over and wrapped his arms around her. "Honey? I don't know about God. You know my problems with it. But it doesn't mean that I have a right to rail against what you've seen or believe. If God is out there," and Will now knew that He was, "I think you have every right to think about Him, or believe in Him, or worship Him they way you feel is right. And you don't need me trying to force you to be different than how you are. I might not agree, but you're my wife and I love you. I can support you without changing myself."

Helen clutched her husband and tried to fight off the tears. She felt like a huge burden had lifted from her shoulders.


	11. Epilogue, Omakes, Extras, Future Consequences

Joan and her friends watched the press conferences that her Dad was having in front of City Hall.

"… and so, with the mastermind behind the attacks having agreed to a plea deal and having helped provide restitution, I can categorically say that the wave of attacks against our religious institutions have come to a halt. As a community it is incumbent upon us …"

Joan was feeling ten feet tall. She had organized her friends to use their various resources to find the evidence. She had also talked to Ryan a number of times – after he no longer was inaccessible to those that had passed.

Judith had mentioned that she had a friend on her side of the veil (Harry had explained the term and she thought it apropos) who often visited Ryan to try to get him to realize his efforts were badly thought out and damaging.

She still did other random things based on God's suggestions. Her father had been a great help keeping the family from getting too worried about it.

Will had considered his relationship with his kids and tried to make more of an effort.

He had apologized to Kevin for trying to live life through him when he was younger. Kevin was floored that his father had acknowledged that. They started to build a new relationship.

Luke, Will had decided, was closest to being like his wife. Where his wife was artistic and creative, Luke was the same – but he applied that to his scientific thinking. He had made an effort to spend time with his youngest and listened to how Luke perceived the universe in all of its glory.

When Will had mentioned to his wife that Luke's vision was almost artistic, it had caused his wife to make more of an effort to understand Luke. Luke no longer felt so much of an outsider in his own family.

But Joan. Joan was his. She wasn't artistic or super brainy or super popular. She was her mother's daughter – but Will felt that Joan was probably the most like him. Joan, like Will, worked to increase the good – regardless of what anyone thought or forces which conspired against her. Will still didn't necessarily LIKE God on a personal level – as much as he now believed and had faith – but Will recognized that Joan would always be the one who would do anything to make things right, make things better.

Needless to say, Joan was much happier. To the world she became "more well-adjusted." To the family, she became "less weird." The lack of fear when she talked to her father allowed the two to become closer than ever.

She now felt that, like when Harry visited, she now had someone on HER side.

She knew that the future would bring joys and pain, but she now felt she could HAVE a future.

* * *

Will was at the scene of a murder. A man had held up a convenience store and shot the clerk. His people had responded quickly and caught the guy, but somehow he had ditched the gun.

They had cordoned off the area and were looking but were coming up with nothing. As he stood there waiting for more reports, he looked at the line of bystanders trying to get a look. There were reporters there, random people – he really wished they would just let his guys do their job!

He noticed in the line of bystanders a teenage boy dressed like a Goth. He was surprised to say the least. The boy looked directly at him and then looked down toward his feet. Will's eyes followed. Will looked up, startled. The Goth teenager smirked at him and gave a tiny wave before turning and walking away.

Will looked around and called out. "Carlisle!"

Carlisle rushed over. "Yeah, boss."

"Get some guys to move that line of people further away."

Soon, the bystanders were moved and Will walked over. He said to one of the uniforms, "Help me with this!"

He and the uniformed officer squatted down and moved the heavy metal sewer grate. Will motioned for the officer to use his flashlight. And at the bottom of the hole was the weapon they were looking for. The officer called out to the people looking. "We've got something!"

Will sighed even as he smiled. Small miracles. Within the rules.

* * *

Future Consequences

_60 years after Harry's visit_

The girl was sifting through the pile of stuff. "Why did Grandma Joan leave ME all of this crap? It makes no sense!"

She reached to pick up a ledger from the stack of books. She opened it up. Huh, a diary. She absently reached over to grab the next paper in the pile and suddenly pulled her hand back. "Paper cut! Paper cut!" She HATED paper cuts. She put the cut finger in her mouth for a moment and then shook her hand – trying to dissolve the immediate pain. She flexed her hand and put it down, accidentally putting her bleeding finger right on the inside cover. "Oh, damn!"

Suddenly she noticed the text on the opposing page changed. Instead of "The Journal of Joan Girardi," it said, "The Gospel of Joan Girardi," and then there was a smiley face – almost like the title was a joke.

She was curious and hunkered down to start reading. After a while, she cried out, "Oh … my … God!"

Suddenly at the door of the storage unit was the old lady who had given her the key. "Hello."

The girl looked wild-eyed at the book and then back to the lady. Her great-grandmum had described this woman – right on the page she was on!

"Um. So this isn't fiction is it?"

The lady smiled and shook her head.

….

The teenage boy in the classic corduroy jacket smiled at the girl, even as she looked at him incredulously. "You want me to do WHAT?"

"Well, maybe not as it is. As it is, most people would look at it as just a mildly interesting work of fiction. That's why you have to re-write it as parables."

The teenage girl huffed. "So, now I'm supposed to be a writer?"

…

_Gospel of the Saint Joan the Second_

_…_

_Chapter III_

_1\. And so there I was, a daughter of the local constable, newly moved to this small town upon the eastern edge of my homeland, traveling to the local center of learning. All youths were required to become scholars and I reluctantly did my duty._

_2\. At this time I was but a silly child, worrying about transitory and unimportant things. Also did I think upon my eldest brother who had been laid low, oh, those many months before._

_3\. And suddenly upon my journey I was joined by He who Created us all. And He did not appear to me as a venerated Elder as was described by those prophets of the past but instead as one of my fellow young scholars._

_4\. When He named Himself, at first I did not believe. I rebuked Him, and threatened Him with punishment by means of my powerful father and …._

* * *

A/N: I couldn't help myself – it just came to me. And the Omake below would be kind of interesting, but one could work out the results in his own imagination. Or her own. Anyway …

OMAKE

Harry made his way into the local watering hole. He thought he recognized this bar from somewhere but it had been a long time ago. He hoped they took Galleons – cause that's all he had.

Harry made his way over toward the bar. There were people around of all types. It was obvious that this wasn't Earth – at least not Earth of his time. Earth didn't have aliens of all shapes, sizes, and colors. There were a few humans around the edge, he noted.

As he moved to stand next to the bar, he was bumped. He turned and there was an alien snarling in its own language at him, kind of looking like an upright boar – tusks and all. He said, "Excuse me."

Another alien, a bit more humanoid but still looking like he was related to a boar, said, "He doesn't like you."

Harry shrugged. "I'm sorry."

"I don't like you."

"I'm sorry about that too."

"You better watch out! I have Death Warrants in twelve systems! If …"

Before the man could continue, there was a disturbance in the crowd. The three turned and saw that there was a path being made.

Harry recognized the teenager making the ruckus. He sighed. "Hello, Boss."

The beligerant Alien looked at him in horror. "You work for him? For one of those?"

Harry shrugged. "Well … yeah."

The Alien was all of a sudden far less beligerant and obnoxious. "Oh! Well, we're sorry for bumping you and for taking your time." The two aliens then quickly rushed away.

Harry turned to Goth Boy God. "What was that all about?"

God shrugged. "Hello, Harry."

"Hey, Boss. Want something?"

"Water."

Harry turned to the barman who was now standing respectfully waiting for their order. "Two waters." Harry dropped a Galleon on the bar.

The barman nodded in a servile fashion. "Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir!"

The two received their water and then made their way to an unoccupied booth. The crowd, once again, made room for them to pass – acting very nervous.

"Is that a new piercing?" Harry asked curiously, pointing to the nose on the deity's face.

God shrugged and smirked. "I haven't decided if I wanted to get a bigger one yet."

The people around him, who were nervously trying to overhear, moved even further away at that.

"So, what do you want me to do?"

"In about half an hour, an older man and a boy around Joan's age will be riding in to town. I want you to help them to arrange a meeting with those two." He pointed toward a man at another table that had a tall figure next to him, covered in hair.

The two he pointed at looked nervous by being noticed by the teenager dressed as a Goth.

Suddenly, Harry remembered. "Wait! Am I where I think I am?" God smirked and nodded. Harry grinned. "Ooooh! This is going to be fun!"

God smirked and said, "We'll be coming with them – for at least the original part of the trip."

Harry was excited. He had been to one of these universes but it was many, many Travels ago.

The two got up and went over to the man and the Wookie. "I heard you have a ship," Harry grinned at the human.

"Uh. Yeah."

"We have a commission for you – some up front and some when we get there. My boss here told me you could help."

The man looked resigned and the Wookie howled – quietly.

Harry looked around and saw the bounty hunter who would have accosted Han Solo waiting in the wings. Noting that EVERYONE in the bar was nervous at the sight of this incarnation of God, he felt a sudden impulse – he WAS the son of a Marauder after all.

He called out loudly to the onlookers, "Me and my boss will be doing some business with these two. I hope that doesn't inconvenience anyone?"

There were a lot of "No" and "Of course not!" and other sentiments expressed by the bystanders. God just smirked.

The bounty hunter had been one of those to express this. He soon rushed out to get word to Jabba – Han Solo was now working for one of _those_. It was probably best to just let things _go_. Han Solo had far more to worry about than an annoyed Hutt.

Harry looked at Han and said, "Why don't you have your friend get your ship ready? We have to go get the group that's going with us. Will that work?"

Han did not hesitate to agree. "Chewie. Go get the ship ready." Chewbacca, mighty Wookie and veteran of the Clone Wars, did not protest ... at all.

The four made their way out, once again being given wide berth.

The alien who sat around the bar soaking up information to sell decided that certain things should just be kept to oneself. It didn't pay to get involved when one of _those_ was also involved.

When the stormtroopers came in an hour later to make inquiries, he kept his mouth _shut_.

Harry asked God, "Can you tell me where they're planning on selling their speeder?"

God pointed to a lot down the road. Harry grinned. "Why don't we go and tell the proprietor that it's coming and we hope that he will give a good price for it. Then you can go meet up with Chewbacca. You seem to attract a lot of attention."

God nodded.

The dealer was very quick to agree to give their friends as good a price as he could. God walked away and the dealer was suddenly far less nervous. He asked Harry, "How did you come to be working for_Him_?"

Harry shrugged and grinned. "He convinced me that it was better that I do certain jobs. I get well-rewarded."

The dealer shrugged. He had heard of the planet where the natives dressed like that. The _rewards_ they gave out were nothing he wanted anything to do with. There was a reason why even the new Empire stayed well away from _that_ system.

* * *

A/N: It was a plot bunny. Somewhere in the Star Wars universe is a planet of people who dress like Goths and they have a very bad reputation. Other planets and races have decided to accommodate them as much as possible when they appear – and hope that they disappear just as quick. This could go anywhere one wants – but it's not on my current plans to write. It was just for amusement.

And I'm done with the story. Life goes on. Harry goes on. It was an interesting side trip.

**Author's Note:**

> A number of reviewers have brought up the possibility of an Evil Traveler as an opposite for the Lone Traveler. Because Joan of Arcadia dealt with good and evil so deeply, I thought it was a good vehicle. And I was always a bit sad that JoA ended before the situation with the antagonist was resolved.


End file.
